Same Time Next Year
by Noda2
Summary: One day each year Sam and Jack meet at Sam's favorite retreat. AU but I've tried to stick to the canonical timeline.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: Stargate SG-1 and its characters are the property of Showtime/ Viacom, MGM/UA, Double Secret Productions, and Gekko Productions. This story for entertainment purposes only and no money whatsoever has exchanged hands. No copyright infringement is intended. The original characters, situations, and story are the property of the author.**

**A/N**—The title comes from the 1978 movie staring Alan Alda and Ellen Burstyn.

**A/N 2—**The town of Ouray is pronounced "yer-ray," named for the Ute Indian chief.

**Same Time Next Year**

They tread the line. For three hundred sixty-four days a year they were commanding officer and subordinate. One day a year, they were not.

It began by accident, a serendipitous meeting they shook their heads over. SG-1 was on two weeks of down time. Ouray had been Sam's intended destination Jack knew nothing about. He'd headed west on a fluke. They'd met in a candy store on Main Street. Laughter over unbelievable odds led to coffee, which led to dinner, which led to an incredible night of making love. There had to have been something in the air, Jack had mused over breakfast the next morning. Years of "keeping it in the room" blown out of the water by a chance meeting over hand-dipped truffles.

**Year One-2001**

Their hands rested on the table, fingertips barely touching, but Sam thought she could feel electricity flowing between them. Her chest ached as she gazed into Jack's soulful eyes. Taking a sip of her cooling coffee, Sam attempted to swallow down the lump in her throat.

Her voice came out hoarse. "Where are you headed?" There'd been no talk of work or plans or what happened next, only endearments whispered in the night.

Jack sat back in his chair, leaving his hand on the table as if it were nailed there. "I dunno. Maybe Durango," he shrugged.

"No destination? You'll know when you get there?"

"Something like that," he smiled, and she knew he was thinking of his sudden urge for chocolate less than twenty hours before.

"What about you?"

"I only have the one night at the inn. It's always just the one night."

Jack raised his eyebrows. "Oh?"

Feeling the heat rising to her cheeks, Sam's smile was self-conscious. "I do my indulgent 'girl thing' and then I'm recharged. I'd get bored if I was there longer."

"And it's always in the spring?"

Sam took her hand off the table, picking up her fork and spearing a piece of sausage resting next to her eggs. Chewing, she nodded, taking a moment to swallow. "Or late winter. I like the air to be cold when I'm in the hot springs. It means I can stay in longer," she confessed.

"Technically, it's a pool," he reminded her, snatching a piece of her toast. Sam retaliated by taking a forkful of his cinnamon roll. Jack eye's narrowed at her, causing her to wonder when he planned on getting even, as their time together was ticking down, minute by minute.

"Outdoors it's a pool, but the water comes from an actual spring. The cave, which you didn't see, is where the spring is."

Finishing up the triangle of toast, Jack brushed crumbs from his jacket. "Maybe I'll get to see it next time."

_Next time_, she thought sadly. They both knew there would be no "next time." He'd head south and west, she'd head east and they'd never speak of this encounter ever again. It was surreal enough without compounding it by acknowledging it. She knew this was how it had to be. She was the one insisting it be a moment out of time, and he agreed.

"Sure," Sam said, trying to make her smile genuine. "Next time." Suddenly her meal turned to sawdust in her mouth and it was all she could do to wash down the choking mass with cold coffee. His fingers found hers again and she couldn't find the energy necessary to disconnect from him.

"You know, if things were. . ."

"I know," she quickly cut him off, unable to bear his confession. "This is how things are," she stated resolutely, sitting up straighter. Bogart and Bergman would always have Paris. They'd always have Ouray.

Jack sighed. "I should go." Sam nodded, forcing a smile to check the quiver she felt building in her lips. He stood, crossing to the counter where the waitress was writing up their ticket. She thought about offering to pay, at least her portion, but she knew he'd want to take care of the bill. The room had been hers and this was his way of taking some of the responsibility for their actions.

Joining him at the counter, Sam slid her hand effortlessly into his. Jack squeezed her fingers slightly, but didn't look at her. She saw the waitress watching their joined hands and the smile that came to the woman's mouth. If only what she was assuming was really the way things were.

Jack's car was still parked on Main Street, close to the candy store, a rectangle of paper fluttering under his wiper blade. "Hmmm. No overnight parking," he said, holding up the ticket. "Ten dollars. I'm a wanted man." _Yes you are, _she thought, once again trying to breathe past the obstruction in her throat.

Jack's duffle hadn't even made it out of the car. He'd borrowed her tooth brush and for some reason Sam had found the act even more intimate than making love. It seemed so _normal_. Such a _couple_ thing to do. He hadn't even asked her, but she didn't mind. He knew she wouldn't. Was this really the same man who dressed her down in front of the entire 'gateroom staff over her insensitive comments about Henry Boyd? The two sides of Jack O'Neill seemed so far apart they could almost be two different men. One she could have. The other, not.

"You still need to check out," he needlessly reminder her. "And I need to get going. Places to go, things to see, horizons to conquer. . . ." His hand was extended, waving, in a sweeping arc towards the mountains surrounding the small town.

Sam gave him a small smile. "Yes, sir," she said with a nod, and knew he understood it wasn't a slip. He opened the door to his truck, slid in and opened the driver's window to let out pent-up heat generated by spring sunshine. Her hand rested on the door and he placed his over hers. They wound their fingers together and stayed that way, silent, for long minutes. Finally, Jack spoke, but he didn't let her go.

"I gotta go."

Sam inhaled, pulling her hand back, stuffing it into the pocket of her jeans. "Yes, sir," she said again, taking a step back. She watched him buckle his safety belt, the loud "click" echoing in the silence hanging between them. Their time together was over. "Drive carefully, sir."

"Always," he smirked. "I'm not the adrenaline junkie some people are." Sam couldn't help grinning, looking down at the pavement to avoid his gaze. "So," Jack said with a jaunty grin, sliding on his sunglasses. "Same time next year?"

He was trying to find a way to lighten the mood by joking, she thought. They could never repeat this infraction of the regulations. They both knew it. "Sure," she said brightly, knowing next year would come and go and nothing would be said of joining her on her vernal exodus from the Springs.

Jack nodded and pulled the truck out of the parking space, slowly making his way along 550 toward Red Mountain Pass. Sam stood on Main Street, watching him snake his way up the highway until he was over the summit and out of view.


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer in chapter one.**

**Year Two-2002**

Sam pulled into to the gravel parking lot in front of the small, private inn. It wasn't a bed and breakfast, but the atmosphere was similar, somewhere between a local motel and a private residence. The furnishings were reminiscent of a B&B—antique dressers and bedside tables unique to each room. It was private, yet exuded a communal air.

Stepping into the entryway, Sam admired the wonderful southern light streaming in floor-to-ceiling windows. The "lobby" had a cozy, living room feeling to it, with tropical and domestic houseplants growing in profusion before the wall of glass.

"May I. . .Ms. Carter! It's good to have you back!" Lydia welcomed warmly. "I confess I haven't had a chance to check the reservations today or I would have made sure you got your usual room!" Sam was impressed the woman remembered her. True, she'd been a client for several years, but she didn't think renting a room one night a year made her memorable guest. Perhaps Lydia was one of those rare people who remembered names and faces. She wished she was one of them. Facts about an alien artifact? No problem. People? Not so much.

"Thank you, it's good to be back," Sam smiled, allowing her bag to slip from her shoulder to the floor.

"As I said, your usual room is occupied. I hope you don't mind, but I'll have to put you in one of our suites." Before Sam could answer, the grey-haired innkeeper rushed on. "No extra charge of course, our mistake and all."

"That's fine," Sam said, reaching for her wallet, "I don't mind paying the extra."

"Now don't be silly. I won't hear of it! Let me see if I can find your key. . . . Here it is! Number seven. Lucky number seven!" she enthused. Sam did her best to fight a grimace. _It might be lucky for some_, she thought morosely.

Jack wouldn't be here. She'd known it in her heart when the team had discussed down time plans over lunch the day before. Daniel was headed to Peru for a new dig, Teal'c to see Rya'c and she to Ouray. Colonel O'Neill had waxed enthusiastic about getting up close and personal with his grill, despite the six inches of snow still on his deck. Of course he couldn't actually_say_ he had plans to follow her, but he could have dropped some kind of innocuous hint to indicate he remembered his parting words of a year ago: _Same time next year?_

No, she decided, he wasn't interested. Either in the deception, the distance to travel, or her. Not that she'd really expected him to make good on his promise. It _was_ too risky. Even at over two hundred miles west it was too close to the Springs for comfort. He'd lay in a supply of Guinness, shovel off the deck, and fire up the grill.

"Ms Carter? Your key?" Sam shook off her depressing thoughts, reaching for the metal ring embossed with the inn's name. "And here's your robe and some extra towels. It's off the courtyard, last one on the right." Sam took the offered items, picked up her bag, and nodded her thanks.

The room was dominated by a king-sized bed, and Sam sighed at the sight of it. All that room for just her. She'd been trying not to dwell on her situation the entire drive, but try as she might, she couldn't shake the disappointment she felt. Their time last year had been magical and she was being overly sentimental, hoping to catch lightning in a bottle again.

After their downtime, she'd been surprised how easily they'd returned to their usual rolls. She was sure there was going to be awkward moments between them. Telling smiles, little touches, something to give away that their relationship had shifted. But apparently it hadn't. Despite practically combusting a year ago, she'd kept up with her "sirs" and he with his "Carters" as if neither of them had intimate knowledge of the other.

Sam had also been surprised at how bereft she felt at his absence. In her rational mind she understood why he hadn't come, but she couldn't deny there was a corner of her heart that continued to hope, that by some chance he would remember. Maybe there would be flowers in her room with a card attached apologizing for not showing. She would accept any excuse if there had just been _some_ kind of acknowledgment.

Taking a deep breath, Sam resolved to put her regrets behind her. She was here to relax, not pine. And damn it, she hadn't driven five hours to dwell on Jack O'Neill's motives. She changed into her swimming suit, rinsed off in the shower, and grabbed a towel, heading for the outdoor pool.

From the time she checked in until she walked the short distance to the pool, clouds had moved in until the sun only made an occasional appearance. _Well, you wanted cold air_, she thought. Stepping into the pool was like coming home after along, exhausting mission. The one hundred degree water enveloped her, causing Sam to release an involuntary sigh. _God, did anything feel this good?_ Okay. She could think of a few things, but she reminded herself she wasn't going there.

Gliding to the far side of the pool, she exchanged a smile and a nod with a couple at the shallow end, taking her preferred spot at the deep end. Her toes just barely touched the bottom as her arms found support on the narrow shelf running the perimeter of the pool, six inches below the surface. All but her head was submerged, and although she didn't need her sunglasses, she kept them on to preserve her illusion of privacy.

xxxxxx

Jack had remembered the location of the little inn from his walk back with Sam a year ago. How he took in any details other than her that night, he'd never know. She'd eclipsed everything, including his good sense. She'd been so relaxed, so not his 2IC, so _Sam, _he'd been mesmerized. He was still dealing with the emotional fallout the incident with the Entity caused when it had used Sam as a Human shield. He'd _shot _her, for Christ's sake. He'd lived with the pain of that knowledge every day since.

Perhaps that's why he'd been so vulnerable to her. She seemed to be seeking an affirmation as much as he, and hadn't put up any of the roadblocks he'd been expecting, allowing them both to throw caution to the wind. And boy, had they. Without a second thought to the repercussions, they'd launched themselves at each other and didn't come up for air until the next morning. He couldn't count the number of times he'd replayed the memories over the ensuing months. Sometimes it was the only way he'd maintained his sanity, and kept his distance, knowing they had a standing date.

Sam thought he'd forgotten about her, about the commitment he'd made as he'd left Ouray. He could tell by her expression at lunch the day before she thought he'd forgotten. It was cruel of him to deceive her, but he wanted to surprise her, make the connection sweeter for them both.

As Jack stepped through the low, wooden door, an older woman looked up from a computer, smiling.

"May I help you?"

Letting his sunglasses dangle on the cord around his neck, Jack took a step closer. "Um, yes. I'm looking for Maj. . .Ms. Carter? I was supposed to meet her here."

"I remember you!" she said, her smile broadening. "You were here with Sam last year!" Jack was a bit taken aback the woman remembered him, but he found himself nodding in agreement. "She didn't tell me you were joining her! Good thing she got bumped to the suite!" she said with a wink. Her smile was infectious and Jack couldn't help grinning back at her. "I think she's in the pool," she added, looking out the windows. "Yes, there she is. Did you want to join her?"

"I think I'll surprise her," he said. "Do you have an extra key?"

"Yes I do, Mr. Carter," she replied, reaching under the counter and retrieving a keyring. Jack didn't bother correcting her. He kind of liked the idea of being "Mr. Carter."

Grabbing his bag from the truck, Jack circled around the pool so Sam wouldn't catching him entering her room. He quickly changed, shivering as he made his way across the deck to the outdoor pool. Steam was rising off the water, and he could barely make out Sam's head in the mist. Noiselessly, he slipped into the water, swallowing the hiss that wanted to escape as he became submerged. Carter was right. This _was_ a religious experience. His head was just above the water, his toes grazing the bottom of the pool.

Sam's head lay back against the cement rim of the pool and through her sunglasses, Jack could see her eyes were closed. Things couldn't be more perfect. Moving as smoothly as possible, he came up beside her, sliding his arms around her waist. The strangled yelp she let out was priceless.

"What the. . . ! _Jack?_ You're _here?_"

"I thought we had a date," he grinned, only to feel his expression dim as she turned her ire his way.

"You scared me half to death!" she cried, slapping his arm. "You said you were grilling out! You didn't say anything about coming here!" Before Jack could get a word in edgewise, Sam was wrapping her arms around him, kissing him soundly. "I should send you back for all the grief you put me through!" But she was kissing him again and he knew he wouldn't be leaving until sometime tomorrow afternoon.

xxxxxx

Sam lay with her head on Jack's chest, rubbing her cheek against the sparse hair. It too was turning grey, but she didn't see it as him getting along in years, so much as reminding her of all the living he'd done. They snuggled together, and Sam released a contented sigh as Jack's fingers found their way into her hair.

"What're you thinking about?" he asked, his voice reverberating in his chest.

Sam pushed herself up onto her elbow, looking down at him. "You really want to know? You never want to talk."

Jack shrugged. "Now I do. Take advantage of it while it lasts." Sam smiled at him, shaking her head in amused disbelief.

"Okay, but you asked for it."

"That bad?"

Sam reached over, smoothing her index finger across his scarred eyebrow. She wasn't sure how to bring the subject up. While she felt a closeness to him she'd never experienced, he still intimidated her.

Jack leaned up and kissed her lightly. "Come on, Sam. What is it?"

Closing her eyes momentarily, Sam reveled in the feel of his lips on hers and the way he said her name. Inhaling, she opened her eyes and looked straight into his. "What happened last year? What's happening this year?"

Blowing out a breath, Jack fell back onto his pillow. "It couldn't be something easy like 'what's your favorite cereal.'"

"Froot Loops," she answered, feeling her lips quirking into grin.

"You noticed?"

"I noticed. You're stalling."

Jack ran a fidgety hand into his hair. "It wasn't like I planned it, like I was stalking you or something. It really _was_ a coincidence we met in that candy store."

"I believe you, but _something_ happened when we went for coffee. There was a change. I don't know what it was, and I guess I still keep trying to understand it."

Rolling onto his side, Jack propped his head up with his fist, gazing at her with a mixture of embarrassment and cockiness. "You looked _so_ hot. I know it was just jeans and a T-shirt, but I can count on one hand the number of times I've seen you out of uniform," he stopped and let his gaze rake her sheet-clad body. "Okay, maybe I need two hands now. The point is, you were so relaxed, so _not_ Major Carter, you had me spellbound."

"Are you implying I cast a spell on you?" she teased.

"Carter, the moment you walked into the briefing room I was bewitched." Sam felt herself blushing. "Wow," he said, pulling the sheet lower. "You blush that far down?" Grabbing the sheet back, Sam's face grew hotter.

"That still doesn't explain. . ."

"How we ended up in bed together? You were there, I thought you knew," he grinned.

"Yes, but what was different about that night? I mean there's been an attraction there for awhile." She felt her cheeks flaming once more. She was naked, in bed with her CO Should anything embarrass her after that?

Jack's finger traced her collar bone then trailed down between her breasts. "Yes, there certainly has been an attraction." his eyes followed the path of his finger, which was now dragging the light-weight cotton lower. Sam grabbed his hand, pulling it away from his goal, almost calling him "sir." Mortified, she swallowed and managed, "Jack." He dropped his hand, looking away. She knew he was struggling. Whatever it was, he didn't want to say it. At length he ran his tongue over his lips, and drew in a breath, unwilling meet her gaze.

"I shot you."

She wasn't sure she'd heard him correctly. "What?"

"I shot you! When that damn Entity-whatever-thing was inside you, I shot you!"

"You had no choice," she said, her voice even. "I had become a risk to the base that needed to be neutralized."

Jack flinched at the word "neutralized." "And you're telling me you don't resent the fact I was willing to end your life?"

"To save the base," she reiterated. "It would have been more disconcerting if you'd allowed your personal feelings to cloud your judgement."

Rolling onto his back, Jack exhaled, his fingers raking through his hair once more. "God, I was a mess. After we were released to go home, I got so damn drunk, but nothing could erase the image burned into my brain. You collapsing to the floor as I zatted you. Twice." He swallowed convulsively as if the memory was bringing up bile. Jack turned to look at her. "It had been playing over and over in my mind as I headed west. I think it was what prompted the trip. I just had to get out, go _somewhere,_ some place that wasn't a constant reminder of what I'd done—almost done—to you."

Sam reached over and rubbed his shoulder. "But you didn't kill me."

"That's not the point," he said so quietly she had to strain to hear him. "And then, there you were. Standing in that candy store looking so vibrant, so _alive_ that I couldn't tear myself away from you. I hadn't planned on seducing you. Hell, I didn't even think I'd get dinner," he smiled. She smiled back, remembering his artificially casual, "So, dinner?"

"But you did. Dessert was the best though," she admitted with a cheeky grin, recalling how the moment the door to her room was closed, he'd pinned her to the wall with a savage kiss. Things only grew more heated from there.

Jack trailed his fingers over her cheek and down her neck, sending shivers and fire coursing through her body. "It certainly was hot and sweet," he whispered against her lips, kissing her once more. "Any other questions?"

"No, I think that about covers it," she said, sliding closer, winding her legs with his. She kissed him deeply, tongues tangling in an erotic dance.

"Good," he all but panted. "Talking's overrated."

xxxxxx

Jack held the door to the cafe open for Sam, who walked past him, smiling. He'd never consider being "gentlemanly" towards her on a mission—she'd kill him for treating her different—so he took even more pleasure in her acceptance of his gesture.

It was the same cafe where they'd eaten a year before. Part of the choice was sentimentality, part was the number of options in a small town. Automatically, Sam sat at the table they'd occupied the last time. The same woman waited on them, and the menu was the same. What was different was their attitudes. Last year his heart was squeezed so painfully tight at the thought of leaving her to continue on his journey, he could barely breathe. He was feeling their imminent parting of the ways just as keenly, but this morning, he had hope. They'd already lived through a parting and a return to "normal." He knew they could do it again.

Sam's fingers slid across the table, caressing his own. "Everything okay?" The concern on her face touched him. He felt his gaze soften as he took in her appearance. She was dressed casually in jeans and a blue zip-up hoodie, her jacket on the back of her chair. What really caught him was the look in her eyes. They'd always been her best feature. Okay, it was a tie between that and her smile, but today the eyes were winning out. Witnessing the love he saw there added a twisting to his stomach as well as heart. Jack knew he was broadcasting the same emotion back at her, and also knew it was the first thing they needed to squelch.

"Yeah," he said quietly, flipping his hand over and taking a firmer grip on her fingers. "Just thinkin'." Sam gave him quirky grin, and he waited for her to add some smart-ass comment.

"Did it hurt?"

"Yeah, right here," he said, pointing to the center of his forehead. Then she did something he never expected of Samantha Carter. She stood, leaned across the table, and kissed the spot he'd indicated. His mouth dropped open in shock as Sam sat back down, self-satisfied smirk on her face.

"Public displays, Major?"

"Do you see a uniform, Colonel? No one here knows we're Air Force. It was worth it to see that look on your face." Jack had to admit, he was now grinning like a fool with the knowledge Sam continued to throw convention out the window for him. She was not his major here and that was the most alluring thing about her. Just Sam, a woman he was only beginning to scratch the surface with.

"What'll it be, Folks?" the waitress asked, pen poised over her order pad. Jack extended his hand towards Sam who placed an order larger than her customary breakfast. He opted for the cinnamon roll he'd tried the year before, plus the same meal she'd ordered. After the waitress left to get their coffees, Sam leaned forward onto the table, her voice dropping to an intimate level.

"Hungry?"

Jack leaned forward, matching her posture. "Someone helped me work up an appetite." Sam looked down at the table, lips quirking upwards and turning the most adorable shade of pink. He loved his words could have that effect on her, especially after the way she'd taken charge earlier, pinning him to the bed, doing the most incredible things to his body.

"Hmm. Me too," she smiled up at him. Their exchange was disrupted by the arrival of coffee, and they each took a moment to fuss with additions. When Sam looked back at him, Jack knew the affectionate flirting was coming to an end. Their time together was winding down.

Jack blew across the surface of his coffee. "So, headed home?"

Sam nodded, playing with her mug before trying some of her beverage. "I think so. I might take it slow, though. Every time I go over Monarch Pass I tell myself I'm going to do that gondola trip and never do. Maybe this time I will."

Bobbing his head in agreement, Jack smiled. "Great minds and all that. I always think that too."

Sam looked down at the table. "Too bad we. . ."

"Carter, you know why we can't."

Sam stared out the window, blinking rapidly "Yeah, I do." She was quiet for a long time, and Jack just watched her, for once feeling like he knew what was going on inside her head. She turned her gaze back to him, pinning him as surely as she had in bed only an hour ago. "Are we making a huge mistake? I mean is it worth it?"

"You mean risking our careers for the sake of a little nookie?" That caused her face to loose some of it's tension.

"That's not _exactly_ how I would have put it, but essentially, yeah."

Leaning back in his chair, Jack's cheeks puffed out as he expelled a breath. "Christ, Sam, I don't know. All I can tell you is starting a year ago, every morning I wake up with the thought 'only "X" more days to Ouray,' and somehow that thought keeps me going. Lets me face you in the briefing room. Lets me sleep two feet from you in a tent. Do I want more? Hell, yeah. Can I have more? Not as long as there's still an enemy to fight and we're needed where we are. But this," he said, picking up her hand, winding his fingers through hers, "Is what gets me through. The light at the end of the tunnel. To be perfectly cliché."

Sam's face brightened, her smile like the sun coming out from behind a cloud. Running her fingers along the rough stubble of his cheek, she nodded. "It _is_ worth it. And if you don't dawdle with your breakfast, we'll have time for one more dip in the pool."

It was the fastest meal he'd ever consumed.


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer in chapter one.**

**Year Three-2003**

There had been no discussions among her team mates on what they were doing over their extended weekend. This year Ouray really _was _a quick in-and-out mission. As much as Hammond had wanted to grant SG-1 some actual down time to re-acclimate themselves after Colonel O'Neill's accidental exile with Maybourne, he couldn't afford to give them more than a long weekend. Things were heating up in the political arena, and Senator Kinsey was doing everything in his substantial power to bring the SGC under his control.

Sam booked her room on short notice, hoping Jack could spare her two days of his precious weekend. After his extended absence, she needed to assure herself he really was back with them. As Thursday evening was drawing to a close, Sam was dismayed at the amount of work in her lab. SG-6 needed her report on the device they'd brought back before continuing negotiations, which were scheduled for the following morning.

The more she checked the clock, the more behind she felt. The Colonel had no doubt left for the day, preparing to leave early in the morning for Ouray. This year Sam had no doubts he would be there. It was herself she was worried about.

xxxxxx

Jack smiled as Lydia looked up and recognized him. "Mr. Carter! Good to see you again!"

"How do you do that?" he asked, purposely giving her his most charming grin. "Remember all your guests?"

Lydia shrugged. "In my business, it comes in handy. Speaking of business, I don't believe I know what you do, Mr. Carter."

"Please, call me 'Jack.'" He thought for a moment, tossing around the standard "deep space radar telemetry," but decided since he was more or less roll-playing this one day a year, he could "do" anything he wanted. He'd always thought if he hadn't joined the military, he would have been an educator. "I'm a teacher," he told her. "Seventh grade history."

"Ooo, that's a tough age," Lydia said, cocking her head at him. "But I can see you doing that. You strike me as someone who wouldn't take a lot of nonsense from a group of kids."

"They do try, though." Switching gears, he asked, "Has Sam arrived?"

"Not yet. Actually, I'm rather surprised. She's usually quite early. I hope nothing's happened."

Jack smiled with more confidence than he felt. "I'm sure she just got held up at work." He hadn't talked to Carter since the briefing when Hammond gave them the extra day. He knew she had a lot of work piling up, but surely she wouldn't miss her spring retreat to catch up, would she?

"Forgive me for being nosy, but what does she do that the two of you arrive separately?" Jack thought she should pick her own fantasy occupation, but figured someone needed to do the deep space thing.

"She does research, mostly. She's kind of a glorified astronomer." He winced at the belittlement of all she was, grateful Sam hadn't been present to hear him.

Lydia was nodding. "I can see you'd be on different schedules. Nice that you get this time to get reacquainted."

"Yes, it is," he smiled, imaging _how_ nice this reunion was going to be. _If she ever shows up, _he thought.

Handing him the key to Suite 7, Lydia informed him of an additional bonus with their room. "This year we've added a complimentary hour in our private pool for overnight guests. Would you like to book a time?"

Jack tapped the keyring against his fingers. "I guess it depends on Sam," he replied, trying to sound calmer than he felt.

"Well, let me know when you have a better idea." Picking up his bag, Jack nodded, heading towards what was becoming their usual room. As he made his way along the wrap-around deck, he looked into the rooms whose curtains were open, deciding Lydia did indeed have a soft spot for them, insuring they had one of the nicer accommodations.

Once his bag was stowed, Jack flopped back on the bed, checking his watch for what felt like the millionth time. Sam was always so prompt. Something had to have happened at work, he reasoned, but why hadn't she called? He knew she wouldn't call him from the base—it could be traced, after all—but from home, or the road? Wouldn't she expect the same courtesy? Maybe she was trying to get him back for making her doubt him the year before. It wasn't her style. Getting sucked into work was.

Debating whether or not to partake of the pool while he was waiting, his cell phone rang. Jack flipped it open so fast, he was sure he broke the hinge. "Hello?"

"Jack! I'm so sorry!"

"Where the hell are you?"

"Um, somewhere on Highway 50. I haven't made it to Montrose yet. I've been trying to call you, but the phone service out here is practically non-existent."

"So what happened?"

"SG-6," she sighed, and that pretty much said it all. "And as you can imagine, I was in a bit of a hurry. . ."

"And you got stopped for speeding," he guessed. "How bad?"

"Thirty over."

"Jeez, Carter! It's sixty-five most of the way here!"

"I know," she replied, and from the tone of her voice, he could visualize her sitting in her car wincing at his reprimand.

"You aren't driving now, are you?"

"No. I didn't want to lose the signal."

"And that's the _only_ reason you're not driving and talking at the same time?"

He could tell she was smiling. "Yes, sir."

"Look, just get here as soon as you can. _At a reasonable speed._"

"I promise. I'm about an hour and a half out. Can you hang tight that long?"

Jack gave an exaggerated sigh. "I'll try. Just get that sweet little six of yours here ASAP, Major."

"Will do, sir." She ended the call and Jack dropped onto the bed. She was going to be a bundle of stress and energy when she arrived. On the one hand, he could imagine she'd be quite "enthusiastic" when she showed up, but this was about getting them both to relax and recharge. Surprisingly, it wasn't just about the sex. Okay, there was no sense trying to delude himself. Sex was a major part of the reason they were there, but it wasn't the only objective. It was the chance to be something other than CO and 2IC, to be _themselves_ when so much of their existence was dictated by their jobs.

By nature, Jack didn't consider himself a romantic, but he never got to show Sam the softer side of his nature. He remembered how letting down his guard with Sara from time to time paid off in big dividends, and decided a little romance wouldn't hurt Carter either. Forgoing a dip in the pool, Jack opted for a quick shopping trip to gather what he needed.

xxxxxx

Sam pulled into the inn's parking lot with a sigh. She'd never been so grateful to see the structure in all the years she'd been coming here. The speeding ticket had been bad enough, but all the other events preventing her from making the most of her time with Jack had her frustrated beyond belief. She often felt the universe was conspiring against her, keeping her from finding happiness with another Human, but never more than the past few weeks. The agony of being unable to find Jack, knowing he was yet again trapped off-world had taken it's toll, and she was sorely in need of this night.

Stepping into the lobby, Sam saw Lydia looking up with a genuine smile. "Ms. Carter! You made it! You know, your husband was quite concerned when you weren't here before him!"

The term "husband" left a warm feeling in her stomach. "Really? He usually keeps his concerns to himself."

"Oh, he didn't say so in so many words Dear, but I can tell. He obviously loves you very much," she added, and Sam wondered if the woman was this familiar with all her guests. It was oddly intrusive, and yet surprisingly, she didn't seem to mind. As if by having an outside observer, it proved this time with Jack wasn't a figment of her imagination, as it so often felt. Many times she wondered if she'd just invented their two nights of passion as a way of hanging on until the regs were no longer an issue. Lydia validated them, especially by referring to Jack as her husband. Obviously he didn't mind since he hadn't corrected the innkeeper.

Sam felt a blush rising in response to Lydia's observations; she wasn't used to people being so forward with their opinions. Fiddling with her bag, Sam couldn't quite meet the woman's gaze, instead asking if she knew where Jack was.

"He said to tell you he had a few errands to run, but hopefully he wouldn't be long. I almost forgot-he signed up for the private pool for eight o'clock." Puzzled, Sam wondered what kind of errand he would have to run in the small town.

She accepted a second key from Lydia, opting to get settled. Truth be told, she was disappointed Jack wasn't waiting for her. The rest of the interminable drive since her phone call had her aching to see him, and to have him missing when she finally showed up left her pacing the small suite. They were wasting precious time, for crying out loud!

Just then the door opened, revealing a startled Jack O'Neill. "Carter! You made it!" The fact he reverted to his usual appellation for her didn't sit any better with her than his absence had.

"Glad to see you were so worried," she replied frostily, brushing past him. "Taking in the sights, doing a little shopping." She could see he was a bit taken aback by her bitchy attitude, but she couldn't help it. Nothing had gone right from the time she'd booked their room. Sighing, she turned back to him, rubbing her forehead trying to dispel the headache blossoming behind her eyes. "I'm sorry, Jack. It's just that everything and everyone seems to be conspiring against us this year." She stepped closer, wrapping her arms around him.

Jack set his bag down on the bed, pulling her closer. "I'm sorry too, Sam. Let's not waste anymore time." He kissed her deeply and her anger and frustration melted away. She started to unbutton his shirt but he stopped her.

"Jack?"

He gave her a quick kiss, brushing the hair back from her face. "Give me just a minute. I need to set something up. Why don't you get changed," he suggested. "Don't bother with the bathing suit," he grinned as he handed her the inn's robe. He kissed her again, and was gone. Curiosity piqued, Sam wondered what he was up to. It must have something to do with the private pool since he requested no suit, but since she'd never seen the exclusive area, she wasn't sure what task he had to perform.

Sitting on the bed, tapping her foot, Sam looked up when Jack reappeared with an empty bag. "One more minute, okay?" he asked, heading for the bathroom to shed his clothes. His modesty surprised her when this whole night was about getting naked, but she found it endearing in an odd way. Moments later Jack exited the bathroom, clothed in the same type robe she wore.

"Ready?" he asked.

"What are you up to?" she asked, eyes squinting at him with skepticism.

Jack wrapped his arm around her waist, leading her from the room. "You'll see." He was obviously enjoying surprising her, so she tried to curb her inquisitiveness-a situation she rarely found herself in. Producing a key, Jack unlocked the gate to the surrounding fence, holding the wooden door for her. What waited inside took Sam's breath away. Candles flickered from every corner and bench of the enclosure, creating a glowing, romantic atmosphere she had a hard time reckoning with the hard-bitten colonel she worked with.

"Oh, my!" Sam sighed, mouth dropping open in utter amazement. Looking up at Jack, she blinked. "You did this for me?"

Jack stepped closer, pulling her into his arms. "I never get to do anything nice for you, Carter." This time she didn't mind he hadn't called her by name. He spoke her last name with such affection it felt totally right. Threading her fingers into his short hair, Sam pulled his head down and kissed him breathless.

"Thank you," she whispered against his lips, just before she kissed him again. At length, he sighed, pulling slightly away from her, taking her hand.

"Come this way," he instructed, leading her over to the edge of the pool where a bottle of wine and two glasses rested, along with the now ubiquitous truffles. "You're over-dressed," he complained, tugging on the tie of her robe. She let him divest her of the garment before returning the favor. "You're also freezing," Jack observed, running his hands up and down her arms. "Let's get in the water."

They entered the stone-lined pool, both sighing their pleasure as the hot water enveloped them. Crossing to the far side of the basin, Jack poured her a glass of merlot, handing it to her. Taking a sip, Sam closed her eyes, resting her head back against the side of the pool.

"This is heaven," she breathed. "I'm sorry I was so awful to you when I got here. It's just that I was _so_ looking forward to being here and then SG-6. . ."

"Is now off-world, and you're here, so, where we're we?" he asked, taking her in his arms once more, kissing the wine from her lips.

"Right about here," she said, tasting the alcohol on his tongue. Jack's fingers were combing through her hair and she released a groan. "God, that feels good. I think my headache is finally starting to get better." he kissed her neck, licking the water droplets gathered there.

"Do you have any idea how much I missed you when I was trapped with Maybourne?" he mumbled against her skin.

Sam was taking deep breaths as he continued his sensuous assault. "Oh, I might have some idea."

"Yeah, but I was with _Maybourne,_" He whined, sliding his hands around and lower to cup her bottom.

Sam felt the tension in her stomach ratchet up another notch, squirming beneath his touch. "How long do we have in here?" she practically moaned.

"All night," he breathed into her open mouth, then kissed her again. "The first hour came with the room. The rest is my gift to you."

"Guess I'll have to find some way to thank you, then," she smiled languidly, scooting even closer.

"Guess so."

And she did.

xxxxxx

**A/N—**I chose Jack's mythical teaching profession as an homage to a friend who was named National History Teacher of the Year in 2006.


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer in chapter one.**

**Year Four—2004**

Sam lay her head back against the tile rim of the outdoor pool, staring up at the star-filled sky. She was alone, and it was her own damn fault. She liked to think her time on the _Prometheus_ had been just another mission, but it hadn't been. It changed her, making her reassess her life, the universe, and her place in it. Normally she wasn't such a soul-searcher. If she examined her life too closely, she often found it wanting, and that just wasn't an option.

She'd been trapped on a vacant ship, concussed, with nowhere to turn but inward, and Sam didn't like what she'd seen. So many of the people in her life were there with her, all basically telling her the same thing—save yourself, move on and get a life.

So, here she was in Ouray, alone. She couldn't even face Jack to ask him not to come. Instead, she shoved a note under the door of his home telling him she needed some time by herself. More time by herself. Sam knew he'd respect her wishes, but there was a part of her wishing he wouldn't. She hoped he'd ignore her note, show up on her rented doorstep and tell her he couldn't live without her. That this one day was the most important in his life. Apparently it wasn't.

_This_ was why she opted to be alone. Of course he wanted her for the physical relationship they engaged in once a year, but did he want _her_? Would there ever be a future for them or was this all there would ever be? Frantic coupling in a town where no one knew them except as the people who showed up for one night each spring? She wanted more. And as her "father" pointed out, she deserved more. All it would take would be for Jack to show up. He wouldn't have to say anything, but she'd know. She'd wait forever for him. If he came.

xxxxxx

Jack stared at the hastily scrawled note, reading it for the umpteenth time, hoping he'd find some clue that would mean the opposite of what was written. She didn't want him to come. She needed time. Hell, he'd given her nothing but time since the incident on the _Prometheus_. Something had happened on that mission. It wasn't in her report, she didn't mention anything at the briefing, but he knew. She was different. Holding him at even more of a distance than she usually did.

He'd been counting the days until they could be together in Ouray, so he could get an honest answer from her for once. The one day she'd let her guard down, but Sam denied him the chance. He wasn't surprised she opted for the easy way out, leaving a note where only he would find it. Carter always had a difficult time being honest with her feelings. Well, he was no prize himself, he realized. The two of them together were almost laughable, both so closed off yet yearning for closeness.

Looking at the note again, Jack wondered if he should ignore her entreaty to be left alone and journey to the inn, demanding to know what was going on with her. If it was just her backing off from him that would be one thing, but she seemed to keep Teal'c and Daniel at arms length lately as well and that just wasn't like her. Sam lived and breathed the SGC and this distance almost felt like a slap in the face. As if they weren't good enough—or enough period—for her any longer.

Carter wanted to be alone? Fine. She could be alone. It had been her vacation to start with. If she wanted to cut herself off from all of them, she could. He wasn't ready to admit how hurt he was by her actions. He should just be grateful for the time she had spent with him and stop hoping there would ever be more.

**TBC tomorrow**


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer in chapter one.**

**Year Five—2005**

Jack looked over at Sam, sleeping in the passenger seat. He was surprised when she didn't wake up as his truck slowed upon entering Ouray, and was even more astounded when she remained asleep as they pulled up outside the inn. He watched her for a time, noticing the frown between her brows, obviously dreaming of something unpleasant.

He wasn't surprised. After the year they'd had, he'd be concerned if she _wasn't_ having nightmares. This last week in particular had been hard on her. Losing her father, calling off her wedding, on top of the Replicators, Anubis and everything else that came with the SGC. He marveled at her strength, empathizing with her loss.

"Carter," he said, touching her arm to wake her. He didn't want to startle her, and he hadn't, he realized, as she slept on. Debating whether or not to leave her and register, he decided she wouldn't want to be left in the vehicle, drooling on the upholstery.

Jack brushed the hair from her face, leaning in to kiss her slightly open mouth. "Sam. Wake up. We're here." Blinking her wide eyes, the vacant look turned into recognition, and a brilliant smile shone, her hand finding it's way to the back of his head, pulling him down for another kiss. It always amazed him how tactile she'd become once they were away from the Springs, and he was easily persuaded into returning the kiss.

He smiled against her lips. "We're gonna get busted for making out in a public spot," he teased, not quite willing to break contact with her.

"I missed that part of growing up," she smiled at him before she gave him a chaste peck on the lips. "I guess I needed a bad boy like you."

"You could still have a bad boy like me," he grinned, feeling like a teenager whenever she looked at him _that_ way. "We could finish this if we'd go in and register."

Sam yawned and stretched. "Wow, I really sacked out there, didn't I?"

"I wasn't going to say anything. . . ."

Sitting up straighter, Sam unbuckled her seat belt. "But I was really looking forward to this. It's the first time we've been able to ride together and I missed just about all of it."

"Well, I wasn't going to say anything. . . ." he teased, earning him a playful slap on the arm.

Hammond had been the one to suggest Jack take Sam away after the funeral. He was sure the general had long suspected deeper feelings between the two of them, and now that he was retired, George didn't have to worry about the gossip. Jack was still a little concerned about wagging tongues, but they had a legitimate excuse for being seen leaving Colorado Springs together. At least this year. Next year it would likely be back to pretending they didn't know what the other did when they got a spring break.

"Lydia's going to be shocked we're here together," she said, grabbing her small pack from behind the passenger seat. There was a sadness permeating Sam that made Jack wish there was something he could say or do to bring back the usual sparkle to her eyes. He knew better than anyone time would be the most effective cure. Not that she would ever forget, but time would eventually take the burning pain from her memories.

Jack slid his hand into hers as they walked silently to the entrance. As expected, Lydia was in her usual spot in the lobby, adjusting a picture here, flicking dust off a table there. Looking up, she smiled then toned down her expression when she saw Sam.

"Oh," she sighed. "Something has happened." Jack still didn't know how the woman did it—assess the situation in a matter of seconds. _It's a talent that would serve her well in the field,_ Jack thought, but he couldn't imagine the grey-haired matron anywhere but the Inn. She was a fixture as much as the hot springs.

Swallowing, Sam nodded. "Um, yeah, my father. . . ."

"Oh, my dear," Lydia crooned, stepping forward to embrace her. Sam wasn't usually much of a hugger unless you'd known her for some time, but Jack realized, Lydia had. Sam had been coming to the inn for years before they started meeting here, and it hadn't been long before even he'd been brought under the woman's maternal spell.

Lydia's arms were wrapped around Sam, but she looked up, locking gazes with Jack over Sam's shoulder. She gave him a sympathetic look, reaching out to grasp his hand as well. "I'm sorry," she said, rubbing Sam's back briefly before releasing her.

Sam dabbed at her eyes as she straightened. "Thank you," she said, looking up at Jack as she retook the grip on his hand.

"You picked a good day to come," Lydia said, checking her reservations. "Mid-week things are usually quieter." She handed him a key and smiled. "I think you know where your room is." Jack returned the grin, giving her a nod before escorting Sam out the side door towards the deck.

"You want to use the pool?" he asked, unlocking the door, watching her, trying to gauge her mood. She seemed to think about it longer than necessary, then a small smile came to her lips.

"Yeah. But not the outdoor one. Let's go downstairs to the cave."

Jack was a little surprised. In the years they'd been coming here they'd only used the outdoor pools. He'd almost forgotten the water emanated from an underground cavern. "Um, okay. You want to change first?"

"Sure." Jack was a little concerned by her listlessness, but maybe it was to be expected. She'd done so well, been so strong in the aftermath of Jacob and Selmak's deaths, that sooner or later it had to catch up with her.

Sam emerged from the bathroom, clad in the Inn's robe, giving him a shy smile. "I'm so glad we were able to get away," she confessed. "This is just what I needed." Jack gave her a quick hug as he took his turn at changing. Pulling on his bathing trunks, he thought about her words. It _was_ what she needed. What they both needed, and it set him to wondering why they still came here only once a year. Maybe if it was more frequent it would lose some of the charm. And also be more of a reminder how they were breaking the regs. Somehow, they'd both successfully turned a blind eye to that aspect of their encounters. On the surface, it seemed callous, to share such passion and never acknowledge it, but he understood they couldn't. It was the only way either of them could reconcile this infraction of their duty.

Sam led Jack back through the lobby to a staircase he'd never noticed in the past. It was rather steep, and obviously part of the original structure. "I never noticed this before," he commented, gripping the handrail for support.

Looking over her shoulder at him, Sam smiled. "We've always been a little too busy for any recon."

"That we have," he grinned, expectant they would be adding to the memories he had of their previous assignations. He saw a small bank of showers, rooms for the spa services Lydia contracted for, and a lounge area, presumably for cooling off from the hot springs when the weather was inhospitable.

Sam pulled open a large wooden door and immediately Jack felt a wave of heat and humidity wash over him. Native limestone dripped with moisture and a rivulet of water ran down the rock walls, winding it's way across the floor until it disappeared through a drain.

"No offense, Carter, but I guess I was expecting a little something more."

"This isn't all of it," she assured, taking his hand and pulling him forward. The next chamber he found himself in wasn't much larger, but there was a rock-lined pool and benches, about the only indication he could see that they'd reached their destination. He was looking around at the sparse lighting as Sam discarded her robe to the bench, and stepped into the pool, settling somewhere in the middle.

"It's a little too hot at that end for me," she informed him, and he had to see for himself how hot the water was. Running his hand through the liquid, he agreed with Sam's assessment.

"Must be the source." He joined her in the middle, still casting his gaze around the dim, dripping room. He got that the humidity was condensing on the cooler rocks, but when a cold drop of water plopped on his head, he found himself startled by the sensation. "This is kinda. . ."

"Creepy?" she finished for him.

"Yeah." He didn't want to offend her, since she seemed to take an almost proprietary interest in the inn, but the cavern was, well, creepy.

"It reminds me of the Tok'ra tunnels," she practically whispered, and he understood it made her feel closer to her father. It also reminded _him_ of Tok'ra tunnels, which was probably why he found it disturbing. He was quiet for a moment as she drifted somewhere in her thoughts.

"Yeah, but it's a whole lot damper," He tried to tease. Sam leaned over, laying her head on his shoulder, wrapping her arms around his waist. He wound his arm over her shoulders, pulling her closer, feeling her warm, silent tears on his chest. He just held her for a long time, letting her decide when she was ready to talk.

At length she sat up, wiping at her eyes. "I miss him."

Jack reached over and brushed a tear she missed off her cheek. "I do too," he said, voice rough with emotion. "He was a good man. They were good," he amended.

Sam nodded. "Let's go outside," she said, standing to retrieve her robe and towel. "I need to spend some time in the sun. Besides, it's creepy in here." He couldn't agree more.

xxxxxx

Sam rolled over, watching Jack sleep. He was on his left side, facing her, hands tucked under his cheek. There was something boyish about the pose, and she found herself smiling at the grey-haired man inches from her. Sometimes he seemed so much the enthusiastic boy he must have been, and others he was the no-nonsense leader of the SGC.

She knew he missed the field. How could he not? The thought of Jack O'Neill behind a desk was as incongruous as her being a runway model. He did it because it was necessary. Because there was no one else with the expertise to take over for Hammond, and for that, she was sorry. He belonged in the field, and she missed him there.

The same way she'd missed him for the past year. The way he now held himself at a distance, unable to appear too close to any one team, now that he was "The Man." The way he held himself away from her. That was her fault, she knew. It started with asking him to stay in Colorado Springs last year as she'd journeyed to Ouray. At the time, she was so sure it was the way to let go of him and find a new life where she would have love, family and _Normalcy_ with a capital "N." Why the hell had she thought that was what she needed? Had her life ever been normal? Had she ever felt unfulfilled because she didn't have the picket fence? Sure, as an outside observer, happy Disney families seemed to be the ultimate goal in life. But really, had Sam Carter ever come to mind when you thought of June Cleaver?

Sam trailed her fingers lightly over Jack's stubbled cheek. She hadn't meant to wake him, but knew she had when he took a deep breath in through his nose.

"I was having a great dream," he complained, exhaling as he reached for her. "Oh, wait. I'm still having it." He leaned in closer, kissing her until she pushed him away to take a breath of her own. Rolling back onto his side, he stroked his fingers over her cheek, mirroring her gesture. "What's up?" he asked quietly, knowing her so well she didn't bother denying something was weighing on her mind.

"I never brought him here," she blurted.

For once Jack didn't pretend he wasn't aware of what she was talking about. His gaze dropped from hers. "It wouldn't have been any of my business if you had." His voice was quiet, as if it were an effort to say the words.

"This is _our _place," she stated vehemently, sitting up. "Even if we'd gotten married I wouldn't have brought him here." She wouldn't say his name, allow him into bed with them. "I don't know what happens in the future, but I would _never_ bring anyone else."

Jack nodded, obviously thinking about what she'd said. Finally, he looked up at her and smiled. "I'm glad." He reached up, pulling her back down to him. Winding her arm over his chest, Sam settled her head on his shoulder. They fit together so well, it should have been her first clue she and. . .would never make it. They never felt as right as this did.

"I'm glad you didn't marry him," he confessed. "Look, I know you want the two-point-five kids and the mini van, but he wasn't the one to have that with. He wasn't right for you." Sam was shocked. This was the most Jack had _ever_ commented on her impending marriage. Even when she'd given him countless opportunities to express his opinion. He'd always went with his stock answer: whatever makes you happy. The trouble was, she denied what made her truly happy. It was him. Seeing Jack in the mess, behind his desk, even dressing her down for some error in judgement. _That_ was what made life worth living, and she'd almost thrown it away with both hands.

"And I suppose you know who I should have had it with," she stated, unable to keep the frost from her voice. Jack was quiet for a long time before he blew out a sigh.

"No, but I know who I want it to be." He still wasn't looking at her and Sam wasn't sure what to say. Before she could come up with a comment, Jack rolled her over, pressing her into the mattress. "Wait for me." he stated. Now he was looking straight into her eyes, into her soul. "I know I have no right to ask you to put your life on hold for me, but God, Sam, it nearly killed me when you accepted his proposal."

Sam's mouth dropped open in shock. "Why didn't you _say_ something? All you would've had to do was say this six months ago and I could have avoided hurting a good man!"

"I know," he whispered, running a hand through his hair as he rolled his weight off her. "I know you would have called things off."

"Then why didn't you say something?" She was practically shouting at him, unable to believe he'd purposely kept his mouth shut.

"Because I wanted you to have that life. I wanted you to experience being a mother. To have your dream. Yeah, it was killing me it was some other guy, but let's face it Sam, there's a lot of barriers to us being together, and I'm not just talking the frat regs here."

There it was again. The age difference. Why did it bother him so? He wasn't the one whose biological clock was ticking! "Are you going to use that tired excuse of age again? Maybe he was too young for me!"

Jack snorted at that, and they looked at each other, each starting to laugh. Just like that the tension broke, and Sam sighed. "Jack, I work with a lot of younger guys. You think if that's what I was after I couldn't have pursued it?"

"If you'd take your head out of your naquadah reactor once in a while you might have," he teased.

"Okay, so I'm a _little_ focused on my job but. . ."

"A _little_? Carter, the biggest shock in this whole mess was that you found time to get involved with him. Frankly, I'm surprised he stuck around for as long as he did."

"Well, it's not like he wasn't focused on his job," Sam huffed. "Why are we even arguing about this? The point is, I don't care if you're as old as Methuselah, it wouldn't make a damn bit of difference."

She rolled onto her side again, arm propping her head as she locked gazes with him. "Believe me, I've done nothing but analyze why I've done the things I have, and I'm no closer to understanding my motivations than I was at the start." Suddenly shy, Sam looked down, playing with the edge of the sheet covering her. "I thought you'd given up on us ever being together and I didn't want to be left behind." She met his gaze again. "So I left first," she whispered.

"Sam. . . ." Jack reached over, threading his fingers into her hair, pulling her in for a kiss. It was tender, sweet and reassuring. "We won't always be in the same chain of command," he promised. "Hang in there a little longer, okay?"

Resting her head against his, she nodded, trying to keep her emotions in check. She loved him so much. She hadn't realized how much until she'd almost lost him. Even though he hadn't said the words, she now knew he loved her as well. She could wait forever. And she would.


	6. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer in chapter one.**

**Year Six—2006**

_God, I hate Washington,_ Jack thought, gazing out the window as he watched the slushy runway of Colorado Springs looming closer by the second. There was no redeeming aspect of his job, he decided, other than being in a position to make sure the Stargate Program continued to be funded. That alone was worth putting up with the traffic, and The Desk. Okay, there was a decent pizzeria around the block from his townhouse that delivered, but that was the only plus he could think of.

Collecting his small duffle from the overhead bin, Jack checked his pockets for information on his commercial flight to Montrose. Things were crazy at the Pentagon, and he really shouldn't have spared the time to fly off, but he needed a break. _They_ needed a break. The Ori were becoming increasingly insidious and they both needed to forget about real life for twenty-four hours. Add in he missed Sam more than he ever thought possible, and there was no way he was going to forgo their rendezvous.

It was a sad state of affairs, _no pun intended_, that they actually had to make plans to meet. Some of the spontaneity was missing, and he mourned its loss, knowing until he retired meeting would only get more complicated. Sam was picking him up in Montrose, and they'd continue on together from there. Glancing at his watch, Jack guessed she was probably half-way to the airport. It just seemed ridiculous they still had to go to such lengths to avoid suspicion. Yes, technically she was still in his chain of command, but come on! Nearly the entire country separated them! He supposed if they were found out there could still be accusations of favoritism and sleeping her way up the ranks, but really? Who would class fighting the Ori as a cushy assignment?

Jack stowed his bag in the new overhead compartment, doing his best to settle into the cramped seating of a terrestrial puddle jumper. Maybe he should have told the flight crew he was a general to get bumped up to a seat with more room, but looking around the cabin of the plane, he could see there was no difference between "economy" and "first class." At least the majority of his flight time had been on a bigger plane.

He couldn't help looking at his watch again, sighing when he realized it was still going to be a couple of hours before he saw Sam. Tapping the face of his watch didn't change the position of the hands and he sighed again. He couldn't wait to get his aching knees into some hot, therapeutic water.

xxxxxx

Sam closed the lid of her laptop as the arrival of Jack's flight was announced. She had resolved to leave the device in her trunk, until she'd seen the size of the airport. There was absolutely nothing to occupy her as she waited for Jack's plane to land, and she figured she shouldn't waste the time by simply staring out the windows at the small runway.

They'd debated whether or not she should just pick him up at Peterson. They could easily have passed it off as an official visit—especially if she'd shown up in her dress uniform—but they were still so paranoid about being found out, they opted for caution. Hell, she was nervous enough picking him up in Montrose. She didn't know why she felt safe enough to let her guard down in Ouray, especially when it was only thirty miles down the road.

Slinging her messenger bag over her shoulder, Sam strode to the windows waiting for her first sight of Jack. She hadn't seen him since last spring, since their last meeting in Ouray. She'd been transferred to Area 51 for a time, he to Washington. They'd spoken on the phone, but they hadn't seen each other in person for just about a year.

Jack was one of the first people to exit the small plane, and she watched him gripping the hand rail as he moved stiffly down the stairs. She felt a wave of sympathy for him, knowing how difficult it could be to move joints that had been locked into one position. As he straightened and crossed the tarmac, she noticed he'd put on some weight. Nothing significant, but she imagined his forced inactivity at the Pentagon had contributed to the extra pounds. It was so damn good to see him in the flesh, she didn't care one bit there was a little more of it.

As soon as he'd cleared the entrance she was flying into his arms, kissing him so deeply, they were both breathless. "God, I've missed you!"

"Christ, I've missed you, Sam!" They laughed at their synchronicity, then stopped, kissed again until the rest of the passengers started pushing past them, staring, as they made their way into the terminal. "They probably think I'm some returning war vet, or something," he said, straightening his uniform jacket. "If I could have gotten on the transport without it, I would have."

"Oh, I don't know," Sam said, stepping back from him giving him the once over, "You cut a rather impressive figure, General." She leaned in closer and whispered, "I do prefer you out of it, though."

Jack groaned. "Oh, damn, Sam! Don't start! We've got close to an hour to go!"

"And run the Lydia gauntlet," she teased.

"Ah, yes, there is that. I'm gonna get out of this get-up. Don't leave without me!"

"Oh, there's not a chance in Hell," she quoted, producing a sexy grin from him. Sam had barely settled back against a row of chairs when Jack emerged from the restroom, dressed in a pair of khakis, dark shirt and the leather jacket she loved on him. "Wow, that was quick."

Leaning into to kiss her once more, Jack spoke against her lips. "I was motivated." She wrapped her arms around him, pulling him closer.

"D.C. is too far away," she complained, taking his hand in hers as she pulled him towards the exit.

"You'll get no argument from me. I can't believe it's been a whole year since I've laid eyes on you. I used to think seeing you on a daily basis was hard. It's nothing compared to _not_ seeing you." Jack opened the rear door, tossing his bag onto the back seat. "Do you have any idea how difficult it's been reading your mission reports when I'm not even in the same state?"

Sam's forehead scrunched up in confusion. "What's being in a different state got to do with it?"

Taking a seat on the passenger side, Jack reached around for the seat belt. Sam copied his action, waiting for him to explain. "I read your reports, how you barely escaped this bad guy or that, glossing over your injuries. I know you think I don't have a lot of imagination, but believe me, I can read between the lines. Especially when it's you."

Sam felt her anger starting to rise. "Which means?"

"Which means 'I'm fine' could be anything from a splinter to several broken bones." Turning the key in the ignition, Sam chose to remain silent. They had so little time together, she wasn't going to spend it arguing. "I worry about you—all of you, and when I can't see for myself, it drives me crazy."

She could see that. When she was at Area 51 she'd had a hell of a time concentrating on the job at hand when reports of SG-1's exploits filtered down to her. It was one of the reasons she'd allowed Cam to talk her back to the SGC. She hated to be out of the loop.

Sagging against her seat she exhaled and nodded. "But you know if there was really something wrong, they'd let you know, right?"

"For all the good it would do me. I'm hours away." Sam nodded again, looking over to see Jack's gaze trained on her. She managed a weak smile as she shifted her Volvo into gear.

"Okay, now that we've got that out of the way," she said with false cheer, "Let's get the show on the road." She realized it was a statement Jack would have made and it made her grin to think of the influence he still had over her.

xxxxxx

They spoke little as they headed south. The sight of the San Juan mountains was breathtaking, and Jack could feel himself relaxing by the minute. Watching as the landscape turned from sage to mesa to mountain, he wondered how he'd survived the past year in Washington. How he was going to continue to survive.

It wasn't as if D.C. was the first place he'd had to move to—he'd grown up in the Midwest and traveled the world to different military bases—but Colorado felt like home. Maybe it was because Sam and the SGC were here. Both had changed his life in immeasurable ways and he didn't like being so far away.

They sat for a moment at the stoplight in Ridgway when Sam looked over at him. "You okay?"

He met her gaze, taking her hand from the gear shift and squeezing it. "Yeah. I just miss this," he said, waving his hand at the vista. "Colorado, you." She smiled, returning the squeeze until the light changed and she needed her hand back to drive.

"We could try a different hot springs," she suggested. "Orvis is just up here on the right. Clothing is optional," she said, winking at him.

Jack looked down at his spreading middle. "While you can carry off naked spectacularly, I'm not so sure we should subject the other patrons to my desk jockey physique."

"Jack, I've never known you to be self-conscious."

"No, but I've never been this out of shape before. Besides, I don't want to share you. We'll have plenty of naked time in the private pool, I assure you. I reserved it for three hours tonight."

Sam's eyebrows rose as she grinned at him. "Pretty ambitious, General."

Sliding on his sunglasses, Jack lay his head back against the headrest, fighting to keep a straight face. "Oh yeah. We'll see if you can keep up, Colonel. And don't forget to stop for truffles."

xxxxxx

Breakfast had never been her favorite meal, but she especially eschewed it in Ouray. It wasn't that the food was sub-standard, it was the reminder their time was coming to an end. Neither of them felt like eating and she wondered why they spent their dwindling moments sitting on hard plastic chairs when they could be in bed, or enjoying the outdoor pool one last time.

Jack had been up and dressed early, tugging on her hand to get her to mobilize. She'd rolled over, mumbling something about grabbing a bite when she dropped him off at the airport, when he bodily dragged her from the bed. She'd almost come up swinging until she saw his pleading eyes, and he whined how he never got to take her anywhere public. She lost the will to fight then, realizing something as common place as a meal at a local diner was important to him.

So now they were seated across from each other, each with a cup of coffee and two barely touched cinnamon rolls, their fingers wound together. She looked up to see his gaze fixed on her, as if he were memorizing every detail.

"You'd think this would get easier," she said, trying to make light of the pain stabbing the center of her chest.

"We've had enough practice," he agreed, reaching for his coffee. He took a sip, grimaced then set the cup back on the table. "It's getting old." Sam felt the pain around her heart radiating out to her stomach. He wanted to end this? Her panic must have manifested itself on her face because Jack squeezed her hand, smiling warmly at her. "I can't give this up, but I'm greedy. I want more than just a night once a year."

Sam returned the squeeze and the smile. She'd always wanted more than just the one night. When had she ever been satisfied with their fleeting brush with intimacy? "I know. But we agreed. . ."

"I know we did," he said sharply, dropping her hand to run it through his already disheveled hair. "I'm just saying every year it gets harder to say good-bye. Maybe if I were still at the SGC, or you were closer, or. . ."

"You really think that would make a difference? We still couldn't risk it, Jack." She slumped back into her chair, turning her gaze out the window. The pink morning light was shining on the snow covered peaks and Sam realized she was glad Jack had dragged her out of bed so she could witness it. Continuing to stare out onto Main Street, she added, "The only reason this has worked, well, sort of worked," she grinned, "is that we pretend it never happens. We go back to our lives as if we've just skipped a day." She turned back to him. "Doesn't it feel almost like a dream? You can remember details, but it's so different from our normal existence you question whether or not it actually happened."

He was nodding. "Sometimes I wonder if it's worth the pain of missing you. That maybe if we'd kept everything on a platonic level the distance wouldn't hurt so much."

"I wonder that too," she sighed, trying a sip of her own bitter coffee, then reached for his hand again. "But if I'd never seen this side of you, just think what I would have missed." She was waiting for some self-deprecating remark and to her surprise, it didn't come.

"Yeah, to think I would have gone through life not knowing that mole had a twin. . . ." She slapped him lightly with her other hand, grinning, feeling her face warm.

"Blushing, Carter? Really? After your wonton behavior last night?" His eyebrows wagged, and her face felt even warmer, if that was possible.

"Don't," she said, pulling her hand from his, pretending interest in her roll.

Jack was genuinely confused. "Don't what?"

Her throat constricted as she tried to swallow down the bite she'd attempted. Sam couldn't look at him as the whispered words left her. "Don't make me love you more than I already do." It was as close to an actual "I love you" either of them had ever gotten, and rather than freeing, it felt oppressive, another secret to keep locked up.

Sam felt Jack's fingers on her cheek, sliding down to caress her jaw, pulling her head up. "I know," was all he said, and she was grateful he didn't say more because she had only the most tenuous of grasps on her emotions. She didn't want to cry, and, most certainly didn't want to in a public place.

"You finished?" he asked, nodding towards her half cup of coffee and barely touched cinnamon roll.

"Yeah. Let's go."

"I'm gonna pay and get a box for those," he said, waving his hand towards their leftovers.

Sam jammed her hands into the pockets of her jeans. "That's okay. I don't think I could eat it."

"You might want it for the road," he insisted and she relented. She still couldn't refuse his orders.

xxxxxx

They sat in the middle of a row of uncomfortable seats, staring out at the runway. Jack was back in uniform, and presently was tugging on his shirt collar with the hand that wasn't clasping hers. He was running his thumb over hers and Sam wondered if he was even aware he was doing it.

They didn't speak, having had an intimate good-bye after their attempt at breakfast. What more was there to say? Their situation was what it was and until circumstances changed, this was what they were left with.

Jack squeezed her hand tighter, causing her to look over at him. "You okay?"

Sam pulled a smile from somewhere and thought she'd done a pretty good job of making it sincere. "Sure, why not?"

"Why not," he echoed, giving her a small grin of his own.

"So!" she said brightly, unclasping his hand and sitting up straighter. "Think you'll get the screaming kid kicking your seat back on the way to the Springs?"

"Well, if it's going to happen, I would imagine it's going to be on this leg. I doubt there'll be any kids on the flight from Peterson. Although, there was some captain I _swear_ was twelve seated behind me on the way out."

They shared a smile and Sam added, "Haley probably looks like a grandmother compared to recent Academy graduates."

"How is it they all get younger, and we haven't aged?" He teased, and she was relieved he didn't make some disparaging remark about the difference in their ages. Again.

"Didn't you hear? They found the fountain of youth on P4X-269."

"Hmmm. I must have missed the memo." Just then, Jack's flight was announced. "Well, I guess this is it," he said, picking up his duffle bag.

"Guess so. Jack, I. . ."

"Sam I. . ." They laughed, then both spoke again.

"You first."

"You go first. Okay," she said before they could get onto the verbal merry-go-round again. "Just, take care of yourself," she admonished, straightening his collar and smoothing down his lapels. "And try to break away from your desk every now and again. Go have lunch in the park or something."

"I'll promise if you will." He pulled her into a hug, tucking her head under his chin, kissing her hair. Jack's voice was husky. "I miss you already." Sam just nodded, not trusting her own voice. They usually weren't this sappy, but something felt different this year. Not an ending, necessarily, but it felt as though it was going to be an even longer stretch until she saw him again. She didn't believe in intuition—there was no scientific basis for it—but she could accept a "gut feeling" and her gut was telling her something had shifted.

Pulling out of his arms, she mustered up a brilliant smile for him, and could see from his expression she'd met her intended goal. "You should get going," she said, giving him a little shove.

"Sam, I. . ."

"I know," she interrupted. If he said the actual words she was sure she would lose it. Reaching up on her tip-toes she gave him a quick kiss, suddenly remembering the item in her bag. Reaching inside, she withdrew the un-opened box of truffles. For the first time since they'd started the tradition, they hadn't gotten around to sharing them. "Something to make your trip sweeter," she said, handing him the container.

Jack rolled his eyes. "Jeez, Carter." Sam could see he was relieved the emotional tension between them had fractured, and he gave her a lop-sided grin, touching her cheek with his fingers. "Write if you get work."

Sam stood at the windows, watching until Jack's plane disappeared from sight. She really needed to get going herself, but couldn't bring herself to leave while the small aircraft was still visible. Returning to her car, she noticed the box of cinnamon rolls sitting on the passenger seat. He must have left them within arms reach in case she got hungry.

"Fat chance," she muttered to herself, but opened the clear plastic anyway, tearing a bite off with her fingers. Popping it into her mouth, Sam chewed slowly, tasting the slightly hot sweetness of the spice and icing on her tongue. It wasn't until she swallowed that the first tear rolled down her cheek.


	7. Chapter 7

**Disclaimer in chapter one.**

**Year Seven—2007**

It was later in the year than they usually met-July-which actually worked in Jack's favor. The Ori were still a threat, but things had quieted down a bit, enough so that he thought it would be possible to still meet Sam in Ouray rather than completely missing their yearly tryst.

He'd been simultaneously upset and relieved as he'd read Sam and Cam's most recent mission reports. Upset to think of SG-1 and General Landry trapped on the _Odyssey_ for fifty years, and relieved they'd managed to reset their existence back to where it had been at the start of the operation. Now he was anxious to see for himself how this latest assignment had affected her.

During their last few phone calls, Jack thought Sam sounded weary. She never voiced anything specific, just a sense he got. He couldn't say he blamed her. He'd had more than enough of Washington, and wished things in the galaxy—galaxies—would calm down to the point where he would feel comfortable handing off the mantle of Home World Security to the next unfortunate soul. But it _was_ wishful thinking. Things were as unstable as they'd ever been both on Earth and off, and the Joint Chiefs and IOA made it no secret they wanted to maintain the status quo at least as far as his job was concerned.

Sam had picked him up in Montrose again, but rather than a transport, he'd opted for commercial flights for both legs of his journey. Not only were there fewer questions, it gave him the opportunity to check on his house which still hadn't sold.

He had to admit, his real estate agent wouldn't describe him as a "motivated seller," but if he was offered his asking price, he'd probably let the place go. However, the sentimentality of it being his last physical link to Colorado was hard to deny.

Jack blinked water out of his eyes and saw Sam grinning devilishly at him, ready to splash again. They were alone in the inn's outdoor pool, and she looked like she wasn't feeling an ounce of regret for dousing him. "I'm feeling kind of left out, here. You want to tell me what's got you so consumed?"

"Oh, nothing," he said, reaching out to pull her closer, which turned out to be a strategic as well as romantic move. "Just thinking about my house. Ericka, the agent, is getting tired of waiting for her commission."

"You don't have to sell it, you know. I can continue to check on things."

"I know, and I appreciate all you've done, but there's really no reason for me to hang onto it. It's unlikely the Powers That Be are going to cut me loose anytime soon, and if by some miracle they did, I could buy a new house."

"Don't sell it," Sam blurted. "Please?"

Jack was a little taken aback. Sam knew he was trying to sell it. Hell, she'd even suggested the real estate company he'd gone with. "What's up? You've never acted like my house was anything special."

Ducking her head, she suddenly seemed ill at easy, and that surprised him as well. "I stay there sometimes," she admitted. "I know I probably shouldn't since I didn't ask you, but it's so much more comforting than my place."

"But there's practically no furniture. How can you be more comfortable there than at your house?"

Sam glanced up at him from under her lashes. "You're going to think I'm being ridiculous, and you'd be right."

"Try me." She was still stalling until he gently jostled her shoulder. She looked up then, her gaze squarely on his, and he wondered if she was blushing or if her face was red from the heat of the pool.

"When I'm at your house, I can pretend you're there somewhere, just in another room. That all I'd have to do is call your name and you'd answer." The Samantha Carter he knew was not given to flights of fancy or any kind of fantasies. Frankly, he had a hard time believing her revelation. "Don't look at me like I've totally lost it," she said casting off her embarrassment. "I suppose it is a little more corny than I usually am, like sleeping in one of your shirts or something, but it's reassuring," she said with a shrug.

Her confession touched him, and he knew he should tell her, but instead just held his arms out. "C'mere." Sam moved into his embrace, but it was a bit awkward. The added buoyancy of the water made staying in contact a bit of work.

"Lets go where it's a little shallower," she suggested, pulling him a few feet to her left. Once they were seated on a bench built into the pool, she wound her arms around him again. "That's better," she sighed, laying her head on his shoulder. They sat in silence for a long time which also had him perplexed. Most of the time they both had so much catching up to do it was hours before they ran out of conversation.

Jack rested his cheek on the top of her head. "Everything okay?" Another extended silence stretched between them, then she sighed.

"I guess."

"Well, I'm convinced," he teased.

"It's just. . . ." There was another beat of silence.

"Just what?"

"You'll think I'm whining," she said.

"I'm not going to think you're whining. I don't think you know how."

Sam sat up, turning to face him, sucking in a mouthful of air. "Lately I've been questioning my place at the SGC."

Jack felt his eyebrows raise. "Really?"

"Everything and nothing is changing," she continued.

"I'm not following you, but then again that's nothing new."

Sam gave him an exasperated look, but expanded on her statement. "Part of it is that we just can't get ahead of the Ori. They've fallen back, but they're in no way defeated. I mean it took me fifty years stuck on the _Odyssey_ just to get us out of that one situation. How long is it going to take me to find something to end their threat?" Jack was starting to form a reply, but Sam rushed on.

"And it's not that I envy Cam having command of SG-1, it's just that it's still hard to take a back seat sometimes, especially when I'd go about things differently."

"Well, it's always hard following orders you don't agree with," he said, rubbing his hand over her back in what he hoped was a soothing gesture. How many times had he butted heads with commanders, even if he respected them?

"It's not that I don't agree with him—most of the time we see eye-to-eye—but lately I feel like I spend more time biting my tongue than coming up with solutions."

Jack nodded, understanding, but didn't know what to tell her. He supposed if she really pushed it, she could get SG-1 back on the grounds she'd had command in the past and had proven herself, but that wasn't her style. He knew she respected Mitchell, and wouldn't challenge his right to his current position, despite her frustrations.

"And Daniel's making noises again about going to Atlantis. What if Landry approves his request?"

"I do have some say in that," Jack reminded her.

"And you'd keep him on Earth just because I don't want him to go? That's the worst kind of favoritism there is!"

"Whoa! Calm down! All I'm saying is if there isn't a legitimate reason for Daniel to go to Atlantis, I'm not going to speak in favor of his reassignment. So far he's still needed on SG-1."

Sam moved closer, burying her face on his chest. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't be taking out my irritation on you." He could feel her breath against his skin and it was causing him to shiver, despite being mostly submerged in hot water.

"Hey, I asked, remember?"

"That'll teach you." Now he felt her smiling against his chest as he drew her closer. "Maybe I should just go back to research. Back to Area 51 or maybe even retire from the Air Force." Jack froze. He knew she was tired, but she couldn't be serious, could she? Pushing her back slightly, he looked her straight in the eyes.

"You mean that?"

She looked away, unable hold his gaze. "Maybe," she sighed. "I don't know. I don't seem to know anything these days. It just feels like everything is coming apart, like when you left for Washington to take over for Hammond." Jack knew the transition had been tough for her, and although she found new challenges at Area 51, it wasn't the same as commanding a front-line field unit.

Sam was looking at him again, watching closely for his reaction. "If I left the Air Force, we could be together, stop hiding this," she said, waving a hand between them. The next words out of his mouth were critical. He suspected she was going to take them the wrong way and the last thing he wanted was to spend their limited time arguing.

"I don't think you should leave the Air Force," he breathed, steeling himself for her reaction. Sam stiffened in his embrace, trying to push away from him. "Just hear me out!" Jack's hands remained tight on her upper arms, preventing her escape. "How many times have we had this conversation about how important your career is? If it didn't matter, do you think we'd have been hiding this for all these years?" Sam relaxed slightly and Jack let his hands drop.

"I know you're at loose ends right now, but you can't really think leaving SG-1 is the answer. The Ori are the same threat they've been even if they're not knocking on the 'gate right now. You need to be there when they do. _Earth_ needs you to be there to kick their asses. What chance do we have if you're not there defending us?"

"You make it sound as if I'm the only line of defense against the Ori."

"Not the only line," he conceded, "But our chances are a hell of a lot better with you than without you. And besides, I know what it's like to be on the sidelines. Watching someone else go off and fight while you're stuck in an office. I wouldn't wish that on anyone." Jack could see she was weighing his words, seriously considering what she already knew to be true. She just needed to hear it from someone else. Perhaps it was hubris, but he realized it was him she needed to hear it from. He just hoped she listened.

xxxxxx

It was an unusually warm night, and Sam suggested take-out on the deck as a dinner option. Jack was off rounding up food, and she took a moment to straighten the mess in their room. Clothes lay everywhere, looking as if their duffle bags had contained C-4 that had exploded. Picking up discarded garments, Sam shook her head, feeling an odd mixture of satisfaction and shyness as she recalled their recent lovemaking. Jack certainly had a way of bringing out her creative side! Mentally chastising herself, Sam put a hand to her cheek, feeling the heat.

_Thirty-eight years old and blushing like a school girl_. In a way she was glad Jack had gone. He'd be teasing her unmercifully right about now.

She'd just tossed the covers back over the bed when she heard the outer door open. "Sam?"

"In here," she called, stepping out from the bedroom as Jack placed several bags on the dresser. "Did you buy out the town?"

"Pretty close," he grinned. "I think it would have been a lot easier if we'd just gone to dinner."

"I know, but it's such a nice night and I wanted it to be just us. Do you mind?"

Jack pulled her closer, resting his pelvis against hers. "Mind? Having you all to myself? Wearing just a robe? Hmmm," he said, feigning contemplation. "Yeah, that would be a hardship."

Sam looked down. "I see that. . . ."

Leaning forward, Jack gave her a quick kiss. "I don't know what it is about this place that turns you into this shameless wench, but I like it."

"Shameless wench?" Sam laughed. "You've been reading too many romance novels."

"Well, they are my guilty pleasure, after all."

Sam couldn't stop grinning. She loved his goofy side, even if sometimes it made an appearance at inappropriate moments. "So, what did you bring me?" She was opening bags, inhaling tantalizing aromas. "Chinese," she sighed, her eyes drifting shut as she took another whiff.

"Good choice?"

"Wonderful. What else?"

"We've got jasmine tea from the restaurant, and wine from that shop you like on Fifth Street."

"And?"

"What do you mean 'and?' Isn't this enough?"

Sam's hands came to rest on her hips. "Hello! Dessert? You aren't going to tell me the man who thinks cake should be added to the food pyramid forgot the truffles?"

Jack pulled the glossy box from a plastic bag, holding it out to her. "You could have at least pretended to let me surprise you."

"Jack, every year we've come here you've bought us truffles. There's not a lot of mystery there."

He was fighting a grin as he stepped closer, extending the open container. "Ah, but you don't know what kind I picked out."

Sam rolled her eyes. "The dark ones are mine, the milk chocolate are yours. You got caramel and you got me plain and some with nuts."

"You think you know me so well. I've got news for you Ms. Brilliant, we're living on the wild side and experimenting this year."

New experiences seemed to be the theme of their meeting this time around, and even though their dinner was cooling, Sam chose to try one of the candies. Plucking a confection from the box, she took a tentative bite. "So what's this one?"

"Some kind of chile pepper. I thought it sounded kind of weird, but you do have a taste for the unusual," he said, wiggling his eyebrows at her.

"Only in my men." As the chocolate melted, Sam didn't find anything particularly special about it. Then it hit her, a wave of heat tingling pleasantly on her tongue. "Oh, wow," she managed as the chocolate dissolved. "That's amazing! I never would have thought to try it, but this is great!" Sam closed her eyes as she finished the second bite, reveling in the sensations it was causing.

"That is _so_ hot in more ways than one," Jack whispered, leaning over to kiss her, stealing a bit of chocolate from her lips. "Wow, that _is_ spicy!"

Sam nodded, wondering what would cool the heat of the chiles, when she often used chocolate for the task. "That's still burning! I should have taken a smaller bite."

"Maybe some of the rice," Jack suggested, starting to unpack their meal. Jack gave her a couple of forkfuls before adding some to her carton of orange chicken. "That help?"

"A little. Don't give me too much rice; there's a ton of breading on the chicken."

"Got it. We still headed outside?"

Bobbing her head, Sam grabbed a fork, handing Jack a set of chopsticks. She'd never quite got the hang of them despite the rest of her team's repeated attempts to teach her. Daniel embraced cultural differences, she floundered. Settling on the bench outside their room, they watched the sun sink closer to the rim of mountains surrounding the town. Gazing out at the vista, Sam took a bite of her dinner and sighed.

"It's so beautiful, even if there isn't snow. I've kind of had this fantasy ever since I started coming here," she confided. "That I would move here, take over for Lydia and get to soak in the hot springs every night before bed."

Jack swallowed his bite, pointing his chopsticks at her. "You know things never work out like that. Oh, you could chuck everything and move here, maybe even take over the Inn, but you'll never have time to actually enjoy the water. Have you ever seen Lydia get a chance to revel in the amenities here? She's too busy making sure everyone else is enjoying themselves."

"Way to burst my bubble," she grinned. "I know it'll never happen, but whenever things get to be too much I think about running away and coming here. Don't you do that? Have some 'happy place' you go to?"

"Yeah. You've been there." It took a moment for Sam to realized he was talking about his cabin and nodded. He had an actual place to escape to, not just some wistful daydream like she indulged in.

Sam took a forkful of her dinner. "I envy you your cabin. Not just the place, which _is_ wonderful, by the way. It's more the _idea_ of the cabin. Am I making any sense?"

Sliding his arm over the back of the bench, Jack moved his arm over her shoulders, hugging her to his side. "Sure you are." They sat in silence, finishing their meals as twilight bloomed around them. A few stars began making their appearance, and the bright one that seemed to hover right above one of the peaks, was probably a planet.

"Which one is that?" she asked, nodding towards the the bright spot, knowing Jack would correctly interpret her question.

"Hey, Lydia thinks you're an astronomer. Shouldn't you know these things?"

"Yeah, thanks for that," she said, poking him in the ribs. "You have no idea how confused I was when Lydia went on and on about some celestial event I was supposed to know was happening."

"But you're so cute when you're confused. It happens so rarely."

"What? Me being cute or confused?"

"Confused, of course," he answered, kissing the juncture of her eyebrows and the frown line that had no doubt formed there. "You're always cute."

Sam sat forward, moving out of his embrace. "Don't think you can charm your way out of this one, Jack O'Neill," she said, trying hard not to smile. She looked back over her shoulder, knowing she hadn't fooled him. The self-satisfied grin he was sporting was evidence enough.

"Oh, I'm sure you'll let me make it up to you."

She allowed him to pull her back under his arm. "Damn straight." Jack was rubbing his hand over her arm and the warming friction felt good in the cooling air.

"You cold? That robe isn't very warm."

"I'm okay for now," she said, burrowing into his warmth. "You never did tell me what planet that is."

Jack rested his head on hers. "Hmmm. Let's say it's Venus and call it good."

Sitting up slightly, Sam stared at him. "You don't know?"

"Maybe you haven't noticed, but the stargazing in Washington isn't anywhere near what it is even is in Colorado Springs. Plus, I'm barely able to drag my butt home at night, let alone sit out on the balcony with the telescope."

"I'm sorry," she sighed, rubbing her hand across his stomach as she replaced her head on his shoulder. "And I'm sorry for falling apart on you earlier. I usually don't get that close to throwing in the towel."

She felt Jack's lips on the top of her head. "You think I don't know that? Sam, you're the strongest person I know, but after the year, hell, the _career_ you've had, I don't think anyone, least of all me, can begrudge you some venting."

Sam gave a sound somewhere between a laugh and a snort. "You're the king of euphemisms. And far too forgiving."

"Tell that to the Tok'ra."

Her laugh was heartier this time. "Okay, point made. Far too forgiving of _my_ faults," she amended, and he shrugged.

"Can't help it. I love you." Sam was surprised how casual and how _right_ the words sounded coming from him. She didn't know what she'd expected when he finally said the words. The heavens parting or something equally dramatic? Instead it just seemed fitting. Like they exchanged the endearment all the time.

Sam's arms squeezed him around the waist, and when her words were released with a breath of air, they weren't tentative or nervous in the least. "I love you too."


	8. Chapter 8

**Disclaimer in chapter one.**

**Year Eight—2008**

A diplomatic pouch sat on Jack's desk, bearing so many stamps and seals there was no way he could assume it was part of the daily mail. Accepting a mug of coffee from his assistant Mary, Jack nodded at the pouch, balanced on a stack of papers.

"Think it's official?" He asked, hiding his grin behind the mug. Mary had quickly grown used to her boss's offbeat humor, and simply rolled her eyes in response. Setting down his cup, Jack picked up the pouch. It was heavy, no doubt containing _reams_ of dry reports from Atlantis. Although, he looked forward to reading Sam's take on the expedition's missions. He'd grown used to her style over the years and almost anticipated her accounts. Almost. When he read them, he imagined her at her computer, writing and re-writing, working to get the words just right. Granted they were technical, but there was something of the storyteller in her as well.

"Sir? Aren't you going to open that?"

Jack's attention was brought back to the envelope as he hefted it in one hand. "Yeah, can't wait. You know, with all the technology at our disposal, you'd think we could do away with all this paper."

"Then what would I have to file?" Mary replied with a barely contained grin. She handed him yet another piece of paper. "This is your schedule for the day. Try not to get too excited." Jack accepted the sheet, stifling a moan. More goddamn meetings. That pouch was looking better by the second.

Realizing his usual tactic of ignoring it wasn't going to work, Jack opened the envelope, pulling out the suspected reports. As he slid the contents onto his desk, a scrap of a yellow legal pad fluttered to the floor. Curiosity piqued, he leaned over to pick up the bit of paper. On it, in Sam's familiar handwriting, were two words: Next year?

Jack felt like he'd been kicked in the gut. He knew there was no way to meet this year with Sam in another galaxy, but seeing the torn-off corner of paper she'd handled drove home how far apart they were. He missed her. The ache of missing her was omnipresent, but this note seemed to twist the knife.

Glancing at the note again, he noticed the "r" was blurred, a circle spreading out the ink. A tear stain. The pain in his stomach intensified, and he closed his eyes against it. When had he turned into such a sap? Probably the moment he'd heard the infamous words, "Captain Samantha Carter reporting for duty, sir!"

There was no way to send a reply, and she'd know that. That she'd even managed to sneak something personal into the pouch spoke volumes to him. It was a breach of the rules, same as their annual meeting. Just enough bending of protocols that she could live with it and herself.

He was tired of this. Tired of holding himself back so it seemed she was just another officer under his command. But she wasn't, and one day a year wasn't enough anymore. Nothing had really changed in all the years, but each year it was more and more difficult to say good-bye. Each year the 364 days until he saw her alone again felt longer.

A beeping from his watch brought Jack's attention back to the task at hand, and noticing the time, he reached for his jacket. Sliding his arms into the heavy garment his mind drifted back to his thoughts of a moment ago. Now that the thought had taken root, he needed to see if something could come of it. Looking out at the wet snow falling, he wished more more than ever to be sitting in an outdoor pool, steam rising off the water and Sam beside him. For a moment he contemplated going to Ouray anyway, but it wouldn't be the same. It would probably just depress him and given his current emotional state, he didn't need any help getting there.

_Next Year_, she'd written. Yeah, he could wait a year. What choice did he have?


	9. Chapter 9

**Disclaimer in chapter one.**

**Year Nine—2009**

Sam pulled into Montrose, turning left at the intersection of 550 instead of right since she wasn't picking Jack up this year. She didn't know why he'd chosen his own route to Ouray, but assumed he had his reasons. Still, she missed the extra time they had when they drove together.

She'd spent most of the drive reflecting on all the change that had happened in the last year and a half. Twelve months ago she was on Atlantis, unable to keep her appointment with Jack. Since then the timeline had been corrupted and set back to rights, and she'd just come off a stint as the temporary commander of the SGC. She had to admit, it hurt to have been removed from Atlantis so abruptly, and to be replaced with Woolsey, of all people. Still, it gave her the opportunity to prove herself at Stargate Command and that took some of the sting out of her reassignment.

Once again she was at a crossroads. One posting ending and another about to begin. Although this time, she was unsure what that next assignment would be. She had some guesses, hinted broadly to Landry, but no confirmation had been forthcoming. Landry just insisted she take some down time and she'd be notified of her next position upon her return. Sam thought about asking Jack, but it broke two of their cardinal rules: No specific talk of work, and no favoritism. General Landry obviously didn't know her as well as he thought he did. Didn't he realize the uncertainty of her next job would rob her of any rest her downtime provided? Maybe no decision had been made, but couldn't he at least tell her that?

Taking in a deep breath, Sam tried to calm the thoughts racing through mind. She'd find out, when she found out. Patience was her constant battle and she'd yet to master it. She definitely needed to spend more time with Teal'c.

xxxxxx

Jack was genuinely happy to see Lydia as he stepped into the lobby of the inn, owing her a great debt as she'd been instrumental in accomplishing his goal.

"Jack!" she beamed, practically bursting with good cheer. "Everything's been taken care of, now all that's left is for your lovely wife to arrive!"

Smiling, Jack took the woman's hands, squeezing gently. "Lydia, I can't thank you enough for all you've done. I never could have pulled it off without you. Well, I guess I haven't yet, but I wouldn't have even had the chance without your help."

Lydia waved away his effusive praise. "You know it was no trouble; I was happy to do it."

"Well, I do appreciate it."

"You know, when I heard you were unable to make it last year, I have to admit I was disappointed, but I think this year will make up for that!" She gave him a conspiratorial wink, and Jack wondered if she could be counted on to keep his secret. The woman was such a romantic he worried she'd let some hint slip to Sam.

"Try not to make her suspicious," he gently warned. "I'm going to get things set up in the room if that's all right with you?"

"Certainly! It's been cleaned and ready when you are. The extra rooms are ready for you as well." Smiling and nodding, Jack accepted the key Lydia offered. He felt as if he hadn't stopped grinning since he'd left for Ouray, and maybe from the time the idea had come to him.

"Wish me luck!"

xxxxxx

Sam pulled into the inn's parking lot with the usual sense of relief she felt upon arrival. She'd had more than enough solitude and reflection and couldn't wait to see Jack again. It had been seven months since her return from Atlantis, and she'd been surprised at the restraint they'd both shown at their reunion. If anyone had looked closer than the surface, they would have witnessed two people practically vibrating with the effort of not touching. Sam understood the discipline it took for Jack to appear detached since it was all she could do to stand there quietly accepting his words of welcome and congratulations on a job well done. She'd tried to convince herself she'd gone for longer periods of time without seeing him, but there was something about having been a galaxy away that made this latest separation seem endless. But she was here now, and she had a whole day where the universe narrowed down to just the two of them.

Jack's truck sat in the side street parking lot, close to their room. Since he'd obviously gotten a key, she decided to by-pass the lobby and Lydia for the moment. Knocking quietly, Sam was surprised to find the door locked.

"Jack?" she called out, trying the handle again. She heard shuffling, an interior door shutting, and Jack's voice assuring her he'd be there in a second. Now Sam was confused. It wasn't like Jack to lock the door during the day, especially when he was in the room and expecting her. The door suddenly flew open and before she could begin to form his name, Sam felt his lips on hers, kissing her so soundly that all thought left her. It only became worse when his fingers threaded through the long strands of her hair, fingers curling into her head to pull her impossibly closer.

". . .missed you. . . ." he mumbled before taking her lips once more. Of course they'd been in contact since her return from Atlantis, but mostly in an official capacity. On the few occasions they'd risked personal phone calls, they kept things light, constantly aware there could be someone listening in.

Tangling her tongue with his, she merely nodded, mumbling a "ummhmm" as she wound her arms around his waist, pulling his hips into contact with hers. Jack released a groan, eyes closing as he sucked in a breath.

"This has been the longest goddamned year of my life," he confessed, and bent to kiss her again. Sam started unbuckling his pants as Jack was working on tugging her T-shirt over her head. For a moment their actions were

at cross-purposes, and Sam allowed him to pull the garment from her before returning to her own task. They were burning up and she knew this first encounter was going to be fast and furious. Romance could wait for the next time. And the next . . . .

Jack had pushed her up against the wall, working on tugging off her jeans, his mouth never leaving hers. Memories of their first night together flashed through her mind as his lips headed south, biting the juncture of her neck and shoulder.

"Don't leave a mark," she warned, her head bumping the wall as offered him more of her neck.

"Would I do that?" he mumbled against her skin.

"You have," she accused. Most of the time she didn't mind. In fact, she secretly cherished the evidence of their meeting, but she was too old to be sporting hickeys in the very public hot spring pools. Suddenly, her shoulders were pressed against the wall and he was inside her, filling the void she'd felt since the last time they'd been together. "Jaaaaack," she hissed, as he pulled a leg to his waist, pushing her harder against the wall. "Yessssss."

"Oh, God Sam!" His voice was hoarse with emotion, as he sought to bring her to completion. It wasn't going to be long with the state they were both in. The weeks since her return had lasted forever, especially knowing how relatively close he was now that she was back on Earth.

Jack was panting, his breath hot against her chest as his forehead rested on her sternum. "Welcome to Ouray," he said, swallowing before sucking in more air. "Thanks for coming."

Laughing, despite her own lack of oxygen, Sam slapped his arm. "You're so bad."

"Yeah, but you love me anyway," he grinned, fully satisfied with himself as he stole a kiss.

"That would be the problem. Now, put me down." He didn't resist as she slid her leg off his hip, suspecting the position wasn't comfortable for him either. They kissed again as their ardor cooled, and Sam wondered how she'd lasted the months she had, how she was going to survive the long weeks ahead when they parted in a few short hours.

She didn't know if she could do it anymore. Not that there weren't still enemies to fight—there seemed to be an never ending stream of them—but the feeling of going it alone was wearing on her. Sam knew she had Jack's support in an official capacity, but more and more she needed it personally as well. Especially now when she had no clue where she'd be next week.

Taking her hand, Jack led her towards the bedroom, kicking off the pants still wrapped around one ankle. She looked up when she felt him squeeze her hand.

"So, how's life?" The incongruity of the statement made her smile. He'd just had her up against a wall leaving her breathless so the non-sequitur seemed a bit bizarre even for him.

"Oh, you know, trying to decide which has priority. Teams stuck off world versus requisitions for more paper towels."

"Ah. The joys of command."

Sam lay down on the bed, pulling him with her. "I can see how it drove you nuts. I guess I had some practice delegating missions on Atlantis, but it seems harder at the SGC, you know?"

"I do," he agreed, pressing her into the mattress, burning a sensual trail down her body with his lips. They were quiet for long minutes, reveling in the feel of the other. Jack's hand stilled on her stomach, as he placed a kiss there.

"I missed you so much," he confessed, and for some reason the words touched her even more than their frantic coupling. She knew he felt things deeply, but it was rare for him to express his emotions verbally. Sam ran her fingers through the silver strands of his hair, unsure what to say. Finally, she lifted his head, looking straight into his eyes.

"I'm here now. Let's not waste it." He gave her the sexy grin she'd thought of so often in the past months, moving back up to kiss her.

"Let's not."

xxxxxx

Sam's head was pillowed on Jack's shoulder, and despite the ache that was starting, he didn't want to move her. He loved the feel of her pressed up against him enough to ignore the pain in his aging joints. For now. What was the most difficult was waiting for her to wake up so he could put his plan into motion.

He had to admit he was nervous. Not so much that she didn't feel the same about him as he did her, but that he was going to have to convince her the loop hole was going to work. As if his agitated thoughts had woken her, Jack heard a change in Sam's breathing moments before she began to stretch.

A smile graced her lips and he felt her arm wrap around his waist once more. "It wasn't a dream." Jack kissed the top of her head.

"Nope." He was getting anxious. If he didn't do this now he wasn't sure he would, and all the effort several people had gone to on his behalf would be wasted. "So, how about a truffle?"

Sam sat up slightly, to look him in the eye, a frown creasing her brow. "Now? I just woke up."

"Nothing like a little chocolate first thing!" He needed to back off; he was making too big a deal out of this and she'd be more suspicious than usual. Sitting up, Sam crossed her legs, facing him. She'd pulled the sheet with her and the vision she presented with her mussed hair and casually draped bed clothes almost made him forget plans, and speech and chocolate.

"Did you find some new exotic flavor at the candy store?" she asked, cocking her head and eyeing him warily. Jack joined her in an upright position, crossing his own legs with difficulty to face her. Reaching around behind him to the bedside table, he grabbed the small, rectangular box, presenting it to her.

"See for yourself." She lifted the lid and was about to take a truffle when her hand stopped, hovering over the chocolate. She stared for a long moment, then her gaze flew to his.

"Jack?" He couldn't suppress the grin her expression was causing. It was about the most confused and astonished he'd ever seen her. Nestled among the confections was his own question to her.

"It's a ring."

"I can see that," she snarked back at him, and he felt his grin slip a bit. This wasn't the enthusiastic reaction he'd hoped for. "Why is there a ring in the candy box?"

"Hmmm. Let me think. Most people would consider it a romantic proposal." Sam was still blinking at him and suddenly her expression turned to the saddest he'd ever seen.

"But I can't accept this," she almost wailed.

"Of course you can. If you want it."

"Jack," she huffed. "You more than anyone know why this is still impossible."

"You know, this isn't _quite_ the way I imagined this going."

Sam shifted, kneeling on the bed before him, pulling his head back around to meet her gaze. "I love you. You know that, and there's nothing I would like more than to put that ring on my finger, but _you're still my boss_."

"No, I'm not."

"_What_?" A look of panic crossed her features. "You didn't retire, did you? Jack! They need you in Washington! They. . ."

"I didn't retire," he answered calmly. Suddenly her eyes grew even larger.

"Oh, God! It's me! The IOA's review was negative!"

Jack sighed. "The IOA thought you did a swell job. They just wanted a civilian in charge of Atlantis to balance things out."

"Then it's something to do with the SGC. Did I mess up while Landry was in D.C.? Is that why he wouldn't tell me what my next posting is because I don't have one?"

Jack gripped her shoulders. "Will you calm down? You have an assignment. You did an exemplary job with the SGC. You get a gold star next to your name." She was still looking confused and he couldn't help smiling at her. "You have an assignment," he repeated. "Just not yet."

"Not yet? But. . ."

"You're going to be given the command of the _Phoenix _which has been re-commissioned as the _George Hammond_. Just. Not. Yet."

"So, technically, since I haven't been assigned, I'm not under your command."

"Took ya long enough," he teased.

"But I will be back in the chain of command in a matter of days, then what?"

"You know once we're married the whole chain of command thing is moot. Besides, you'll be reporting to Landry, not me, so me being your boss is a bit of a stretch."

Sam settled back to her cross-legged position, facing him once more. He was still holding the candy box, a little let down she'd yet to pick up the ring. Was she scared? Still working out the logistics? Didn't want him? The flash of paranoia wasn't helping his nerves. He really hadn't considered he was going to have to go to these extremes to convince her.

"Jack, if the higher-ups oppose this, you know a technicality won't get us past the regs." He closed the box, moving to get out of the bed. He had to have been out of his mind to think she'd like to make their arrangement a more permanent situation.

He turned his back to her. "Forget I said anything," he mumbled. Never in a million years had he envisioned this scenario. He really thought they were in the same place as far as their relationship went, but apparently he was wrong. In the awful silence that stretched between them, he heard the rustling of sheets, and felt the bed dip as Sam got out. Closing his eyes, Jack swallowed, struggling to get his disappointment under control. Upon opening his eyes, he saw Sam standing before him, sheet wrapped around her like a toga.

"Listen to me," she said in a tone of voice that brooked no argument. He'd never heard Sam use her "command voice" before and Jack decided the time on Atlantis had been good for her. Still, he wasn't meeting her gaze until he felt her fingers tilt his head up. "I love you, and there is nothing in this world I would like better than to accept that ring." Here she stopped, closing her eyes, and sucking in a lungful of air. When she opened her eyes, he could see the moisture threatening to spill over. "But don't you see," she said, cocking her head, "It's just as impossible as it's ever been."

"It isn't," he stated emphatically. "Sure it's splitting hairs, but the Air Force doesn't want to lose either one of us. If our having conjugal relations is going to bring down Home World Security and Stargate Command, the Earth's in a hell of a lot of trouble."

She laughed then, wiping at her eyes. "True. If we were going to be struck down by lightning, it would have happened by now." She took a stuttering breath. "Still, it's military policy," she pushed.

"I don't have to order you into a battle situation like I did when I was on SG-1. That's Landry's gig now. And favoritism? You _earned_ your position on the _Hammond_. Your service record is documented fact, and I had _nothing_ to do with your appointment other than to approve it." She stood there, staring at him, indecision evident by the way her teeth caught her lower lip.

"I want to," she said, taking the box from him, opening the lid once more to examine the ring. "It's beautiful." He watched her pluck the band from between the chocolates and look at it more closely before her gaze met his. "Where did you get it?"

Jack squirmed on the bed. "I, uh, had it made."

Sam tilted the ring so it caught the light. "Really? What kind of stone is it?"

Jack knew he'd have to come clean about essentially stealing government property. "I don't know what it's called. It's from P3X-something-or-other."

"You kept something from off-world? Jack, you could get in trouble for this!"

"I won't tell if you won't tell?" Sam's accusatory glance made him wince. "Okay, you're right. I shouldn't have kept it, but it. . . . It. . . ."

She blushed slightly, looking at him from under her lashes. Softly, she ventured a guess. "It reminded you of me?"

Now Jack was embarrassed. "Look, I know it was kind of a sentimental thing for me to do, but. . ."

"I think it's sweet," she said, giving him a shy smile.

Jack lifted one shoulder. "Well, ya know. . . ."

"I do know," she said, leaning over to kiss him. Sitting back down next to him, Sam sighed. "So." She let the word hang in the air. "We're going to do this, huh?"

"Really? We are? I mean is this a 'yes?'"

One of the most radiant smiles he'd ever seen blossomed across her face. "Yes, it's a yes."

"Sweet!" He pulled her into her arms, kissing her so deeply he knew it had to be lack of oxygen that had his head spinning. Finally breaking the kiss, she handed him the band.

"Will you put it on?"

He couldn't believe how unsteady his hands were as he took the platinum setting back, sliding it on her cool finger. His gaze never wavered from hers. "Marry me, Sam."

xxxxxx

Sam stared at the blue-grey stone, unsure what she was feeling. Strangely numb, not unlike the sensation of a wormhole, spinning and careening her until one reality blended into the next. It was fitting, actually, that she'd equate the next phase of her life with the Stargate considering the man she'd agreed to marry. Holy Hannah! She was getting married! Suddenly, her brain re-engaged and she snapped her gaze back to Jack who was still staring at her.

"We have to do this over the weekend!"

"That was kind of my plan," he acknowledged, gliding his fingers into her hair to pull her closer. Jack's lips met hers, and Sam found herself drifting away again, lost in the feel of him.

She bolted upright. "You have a plan?"

"I do."

She leaned into him once more, smiling against his lips. "And just how long have you been planning this?" Jack's eyes slowly closed as he returned her kiss.

"Mmmm, a couple of months, I guess."

Sam broke the kiss, staring at him. "A couple of months?"

"Well, these things don't happen overnight, you know." His amused grin was almost smug, as if he'd never doubted her answer.

"And what if I'd said 'no?'"

"You almost did," he reminded her. Lying back, tucking his arms under his head, Jack outlined his course of action.

"Tomorrow, at about 1300 we're headed to that church across the street, where we'll exchange the usual vows—unless you're feeling poetic and want to write your own—and we spend another night here having a glorious, but short-lived honeymoon. Sunday we return to Colorado Springs in full view of everyone, and Monday morning at 0800, in a briefing with General Landry, you will be apprised of your new assignment while your new/old husband looks on with much pride." He sucked in a breath and added, "And then there will be more cake."

Sam was laughing, shaking her head when she felt her eyes go wide. "Cake! Dress! Ohmigod! All I have with me is a pair of jeans, a T-shirt and swimming suit!"

"All taken care of," he assured her.

Looking at him in disbelief, Sam wondered how he'd managed to pull off the feat he was claiming. She, better than anyone, knew how busy he'd been in the last weeks. When would he have had time to put together a wedding? Or even be capable of it? True, it sounded like it was going to be casual—it would have to be given her own lack of preparation—but still!

Sam lay her head down on his shoulder, snuggling up against his side. Could she really hope this was how her life was going to be? That she and Jack would share a bed more than once a year? Resting her hand on his chest, she felt his fingers threading through hers, holding her hand against him. He turned his head slightly, placing his lips against her hair.

"I've enlisted Lydia's help, and she's arranged for a cake and some hors d'oeuvers. Nothing too fancy, just something to commemorate the occasion."

"It sounds perfect," she sighed. "I suppose I could find a dress in Montrose since it's going to be informal," she mused aloud, mentally running through what else she might need.

"Well, you could do that, if that's what you'd like."

She turned her head to look at him. "Did you have something else in mind?" He seemed to hesitate, as if he was unsure how she was going to take his next words.

"I hope you don't mind, but I asked Daniel to stop by your place and bring your blues. I figured you'd want something nicer, and since I'm not exactly familiar with your wardrobe. . . ."

"Daniel's coming?" She couldn't believe how relieved and excited she felt. She didn't give a flying rat's ass about what she would be wearing so long as he would be with them to share the day. She gave a fleeting thought to Mark and his family, but they could always have a party later. The important thing was Daniel would be there. "What about Teal'c?"

"You do need a bridesmaid after all." She wasn't sure, but Sam could have sworn she'd squealed as she wrapped her arms around Jack.

She squirmed around again to look at him. "Vala's going to be disappointed. You know how she is about weddings. She _is_ coming, right? And Cam?"

"I tried to keep her away, but you know how she is," he teased. Sam continued staring at him until he sighed, "Yes, she'll be here. Mitchell's in Kansas at his grandfather's. He said something about needing to reconnect after the whole Ba'al thing."

She lay silent for a moment, then sat up again, Jack's earlier words reestablishing with her conscious mind. "My dress blues? Don't you think it's a bit ballsy flaunting this in the Air Force's face, as it were?"

Jack smirked. "Exactly."

"I don't know, Jack," she said, feeling doubt rising again. "If we're going to try to fly this past the the Powers That Be on a technicality, don't you think low-key might be the better way to go?"

Joining her in a sitting position, Jack took her hands. "Do you want to marry me?"

"Of course I do, that's not the issue."

"Are you ashamed of marrying a fellow officer?"

His words targeted her dilemma. "I'd be lying if I said I didn't have some reservations, but no, it's not that you're an officer, but my _commanding _officer. Getting married in our uniforms just seems to be emphasizing that."

"And I think it tells the world we're proud of who we are. What we've done and will continue to do. I realize it's probably not your fantasy wedding, so if you would feel more comfortable picking out something in town, I think you should."

She thought about Jack's words, and he was right. She _was_ proud of who they were and what they did. Maybe it wasn't such a bad idea after all.

Smiling, she ran her fingers along his cheek. "I'm fine with it. I'd wear a burlap sack so long as I got the chance to say 'I do.'"

Jack's grin nearly split his face. "Sweet!"

xxxxxx

In the end, there were more people at their wedding than he'd expected. Outside of their former team mates, General Landry made an appearance as well as Lydia. And in a fit of good spirits, Jack invited the couple from the next room over after a five minute introduction to them.

However, there were two people conspicuously absent: George Hammond and Jacob Carter. He could well imagine the pride and satisfaction on both men's faces as he and Sam exchanged vows.

While Hammond never directly discussed Jack's relationship with Sam, his conspicuous avoidance of the topic spoke volumes. If George had disapproved, Jack was sure Sam would have been on another SG team faster than he could say "wormhole." Of course if that had been the case, it wouldn't have taken them years to get married. Still, he wouldn't have traded his experiences with her on SG-1 for anything, and he suspected Sam felt the same, despite the years of being together only one day annually.

He missed Jacob's presence, not as much as Sam, he was sure, but he'd genuinely liked and respected the man and his blessing of their union would have been the cherry on the cake of his day. Well, he did have Jacob's blessing, he supposed, but to have it today would have been even more poignant.

"There you are," Sam said, coming up beside him, sliding her arm through his, and grasping his hand. She was gorgeous, beaming. Sporting the same radiant joy he no doubt was broadcasting.

"I can see how you would lose me in this crowd," he quipped. Sam pushed playfully at his shoulder, and a feeling of profound contentment bubbled up through him. The simple act of being able to touch her in public was overwhelming. That something so _normal _could make him so extremely happy surprised him. He was often content, but never truly happy. Today, he was.

"So, _Mr. Carter, _apparently we were renewing our vows today?"

Jack winced. "Ah."

"I had a very nice _informative_ chat with Lydia a few moments ago. It would seem my occupation isn't the only thing she was mistaken about."

Jack tugged on his collar, then ran a hand through his once combed hair. "Well, I may have left a thing or two out. . . ." Sam stood before him, ticking off his sins.

"You 'neglected' to mention being in the military, and a general at that; you didn't tell her _I_ was in the military; and pretended you were my husband."

"I am now, doesn't that count for something?" He knew his smart remarks weren't gaining him any ground.

"To see us both in our uniforms, exchanging vows _for the first time _confused the poor woman to say the least. Fortunately she didn't renege on her offer to host our reception."

He felt himself still wincing. "Was she pissed?" Jack could see Sam was fighting to stay angry, but a small smile slipped out.

"Actually, no. She thought it was funny. That we'd go to such lengths when there was no reason to 'sneak around,' as it were."

"Apparently she has no concept of frat regs," he muttered.

Sam smiled and leaned into him. "And why would she? There was an astronomer and a teacher staying in suite seven." He chuckled then, leaning in for a kiss, which prompted a series of whoops from a slightly tipsy Vala. Sam blushed as she pulled back, turning her gaze onto Daniel, visually beseeching him to do something with her.

Teal'c stepped up to them, taking Sam's hands. "ColonelCarter-O'Neill, O'Neill. May I offer you my congratulations."

"Thank you, Teal'c," Sam said, glancing over her shoulder at himself. "But I'm sticking with just Carter. At least for now." Teal'c simply inclined his head with an enigmatic smile that could mean anything from approval to he had gas.

"It was with great pleasure I was able to be your Man of Honor," he said, inclining his head once more.

"Oh, thank you, Teal'c," Sam said, wrapping her arms around him as tears gathered in her eyes. Damn, if he wasn't getting misty watching the two of them. As if the embracing friends were a beacon, Daniel was suddenly at his side. No doubt Vala would be following him shortly.

"Jack."

"Daniel." They both stood there, rocking on their feet, hands stuffed into pockets, casting each other glances but remaining silent.

"Oh for God's sake!" Sam exclaimed, transferring her hug from Teal'c to Daniel. "You two are as impossible as ever." Jack looked Daniel up and down in the same manner he was being scrutinized. "You two look like SG-1 bookends," she sighed.

"Except that I'm better dressed," Daniel said, straightening his tie.

Sam spoke up, no doubt in an effort to cut him off from making some snide remark to Daniel. Ever the referee; that was his Carter. _His Carter_ that sounded damn good.

"I'm so glad you were all able to come," she said, grinning from ear to ear, touching each of her friends again. "I don't know how you all managed to keep this a secret." Vala launched herself at Teal'c's back as if waiting for a piggy-back ride. _Definitely time to cut her off, _Jack thought.

"Really? Considering what we do?" Sam gave her a sharp look, but Vala seemed oblivious.

"ValaMalDoran, perhaps it would be prudent for you to forego more alcohol. I shall procure you a glass of punch." He set her down, holding her arm momentarily as she wobbled.

"Thank you, Muscles," she said, eyeing him with a toothy grin, then sighed. "I have missed him."

"And I'm sure he's missed you," Daniel said, the sarcasm worthy of himself, Jack noted.

"Now no need to be jealous, Daniel. There's plenty to go around."

"Don't I know it," Daniel mumbled under his breath.

Jack clapped one hand on his friend's shoulder, extending his right, suddenly serious. He started leading him away from the women as Daniel shook his outstretched hand, his eyebrows peaked in confusion. This was hard enough to say without witnesses.

"Daniel, I uh, want to thank you for everything you've done for me. Well, us. I never could have pulled it off without you." Daniel seemed just as uncomfortable receiving the praise as Jack was giving it.

Pushing up his glasses, Daniel stared at him, perfectly dead pan. "I did it for Sam, of course. You just happened to be there as well."

Jack grinned, squeezing his shoulder. "Then on her behalf, thank you."

He'd already started back towards Sam when he heard Daniel add, "You deserve it. After all these years, you both deserve it." Jack simply nodded. Yeah, they did.


	10. Chapter 10

**Disclaimer in chapter one.**

**Year Ten—2010**

Sam sat in her office aboard the _Hammond,_ watching the minutes tick down on her Earth-based clock. It was set to Mountain Standard Time, and although it was the middle of her ship's night, she waited by the communications terminal. Jack was due to make contact in about five minutes and it was all she could do to sit still and wait. The ship was on the edge of its communication range and she prayed the signal would make it through.

Right on time, her terminal beeped, alerting her to an incoming message. The image jumped around, static crackled, but there was no mistaking the person on the other end of the link. She was a little surprised to see Jack in his BDUs, standing in the control room of the SGC, and she felt her heart give another little twist. It was so _right_, seeing him standing there.

"Colonel Carter," he grinned, hands stuffed in his pockets, rocking back on his heels. The picture was still a bit distorted, but it was so good to at least see part of him she didn't care. Punching a button, she began recording the message, knowing in the coming weeks it would keep her company until their next contact.

"General O'Neill," she said, standing up straighter before the camera. She could feel herself smiling at him, wishing so badly there weren't hundreds of light years separating them.

"Anything new to report?"

"Not since our last transmission. The Lucian Alliance is still on the move but nothing threatening in some time."

"Good to hear." There was a pause and she saw Jack look around the control room. He spoke to the staff, but she couldn't make out the words, just saw a man and woman walk past the camera. Sitting down, Jack pulled the camera a little closer. "Ah, alone at last."

Sam too took a seat, adjusting her camera to give a closer view. "Happy Anniversary."

"Yeah, not so much on the 'happy' part, is it, with you on the other side of the galaxy." Sam nodded. "Is this a secure channel?"

"About as secure as we're going to get when I'm in a facility with hundreds of people and you're on a ship with hundreds of people."

"At least it's the middle of the night here." They stared at each other for long moments they really didn't have to waste.

Jack leaned closer to his camera, voice dropping to an even more confidential level. "I miss you, Mrs. O'Neill."

Nodding again, Sam worked on keeping her voice steady. "We should be in Ouray right now."

"Lydia's probably wondering where the hell we are."

Sam swallowed. There was so much she wanted to say to him, so much to tell him that she couldn't include in her official reports, but now, staring at his distorted image, she couldn't think of a one. "I just wish. . . ."

"Hey, this isn't forever, Sam," he tried to reassure her. "One more year, tops. And you've got leave coming up at some point right? We'll celebrate then." She bobbed her head, wiping her eyes. She hadn't cried over him since being stationed on the _Hammond_, but there was something about seeing and hearing him on the day of their first anniversary that brought it all to a head.

"I know. And this is a good career move right? Isn't that what you've always said?"

"It's big, Carter. Huge. You know, Landry's talking retirement again." She could read between the lines. While Jack couldn't actually _say_ she was up for promotion, he didn't have to. Sam knew she was the most qualified person to take over the SGC.

Dabbing her eyes one last time, she sat up taller, giving him what she hoped was a brilliant smile. He had enough on his plate without worrying about her. "So, how are things in Washington?" As Jack grinned at her, launching into his tirade of bureaucratic inadequacies, the distance and melancholy began to evaporate. Except for the monitors, they could be sitting at the dinner table discussing their daily work and frustrations with it.

It was strange that this was "normal" for them. Almost from the time they'd been married they'd been living separately, and as much as she loved Jack, she wondered if she _could_ live with him. On the surface, little had changed. He was still "sir" in public as she was "Colonel" or "Carter." Much to their relief, the marriage had caused hardly a ripple with the higher ups. There was a cautionary reprimand in each of their files now, but according to Jack, it was a symbolic slap on the wrist. They'd proven themselves capable of being professional despite their marriage, and that seemed to be good enough for all concerned.

A crackle of static disrupted the signal again. "Looks like you're moving out of range," Jack said. "Guess we're gonna have to cut this short."

Sam sighed, placing her hand in front of the video lens so he could see her palm on his screen. He did the same; it was as close to touching as they could manage. "I love you, Jack." There was so much more she wished they had time to say, but the erratic images of him between the distortion were becoming further and further between.

". . .ove you. . .oo. . .am. Hurry. . . om. . ."

"I will," she replied, but the screen had gone black. Sam collapsed against the back of her chair, eyes closed, trying to swallow down the pain in her throat. _Was this what it had been like all those years she'd spent on the_ Odyssey_? God, how had she ever survived it? _

She'd give the Air Force one more year. If there wasn't at least a _chance_ of being reassigned to Earth, she'd go civilian, retire—something—as long as she and Jack could finally be together.

Getting up from her chair, Sam wondered around her small office, shutting down lights and other non-essential equipment in preparation for hitting her bunk for a few short hours. Sleep wouldn't come easy, but she at least had to try.

As she was making her way to her quarters, Major Marks intercepted her. "Colonel, I'm glad I caught you," he said, slightly breathless as if he'd been jogging to catch up with her.

"Major? Isn't it a little late to be roaming the ship? Is something wrong?"

He smiled as he took a gulp of air. "Special assignment, Ma'am. Last time we were on Earth, General O'Neill asked a favor. He said on February 21st I was to give you this." He handed her a gift bag stuffed with bright orange tissue paper to conceal the contents, but she had her suspicions. Her recently controlled emotions began welling up again, and with a slight cough to clear her throat, Sam found her voice.

"Thank you, Major."

Kevin nodded. "My pleasure. Oh, and happy anniversary, Colonel." She watched him retreating down the corridor before entering her quarters. Once inside, she pulled the thin paper from the sack, revealing a glossy, rectangular box resting on bottom of the gaily decorated bag. Reaching in, Sam retrieved the familiar container and opened it. Inside were the traditional half-dozen truffles along with a white, hand-written card.

_To the sweetest thing in any galaxy. Happy Anniversary,_

_Jack_


	11. Chapter 11

**Disclaimer in chapter one.**

**Year Eleven—2011**

Jack settled back against the side of the inn's outdoor hot pool with a sigh. The water felt wonderful, soothing his aching knees that as of late were giving him even more trouble. _Probably the extra time on the treadmill_, he reasoned.

Being a desk jockey was really catching up with him and it didn't sit well. Or rather that was the problem—he _was_ sitting too well. Sam hadn't said anything about there being more of him to love, but it bothered him when he knew he could be in better shape. So, there was now a treadmill in his office where he walked while reading reports, and then the treadmill at the club after work.

It was starting to snow and it was the first time he'd been at the inn to witness it. There usually seemed to be plenty of snow around, he just hadn't experienced its arrival. From the looks of the clouds, Sam was going to miss it if she didn't hurry.

She'd bought a new swimsuit and was no doubt fussing with it. He told her the usual two piece was fine, but she flat out refused, and it wasn't worth fighting over. He just didn't want her to miss the moment because a strap was twisted or something.

Looking up, Jack heard the door to the main building of the inn opening, watching as Sam emerged, wrapped in a warmer robe than the standard issue. She walked tentatively over cold flagstones that surrounded the pool, causing Jack to smile at her cat-like gait.

"Isn't the snow great?" he grinned.

Scanning the sky, Sam agreed. "Doesn't look like we'll get much, which is probably a good thing for driving." She clutched her robe tighter, stepping onto the first submerged step in the pool, no doubt to get her feet off the cold stones. She stood there for a long moment before Jack asked,

"Aren't you coming in?"

"Yeah, it's just that I shouldn't get over heated, so I was waiting. I wanted you to have some time to soak."

"I've had it, so get in here," he ordered.

She started to untie her robe, then dropped her hands. "I look fat."

Sighing, Jack tried to control the exasperation in his voice. "You do not look fat. You look barely pregnant. Besides, do you see anyone around who would care?" Sam scanned the entire outdoor area, discovering no one. Satisfied, she finally removed her outer garment, tossing it to one of the chairs with the least amount of snow. After a few more tentative steps and a few swim strokes, she was by his side.

"You're facing away from the view," she chided.

Jack leaned down to kiss her. "No, I'm not." They kissed for a few more minutes when Sam tugged on his hand to get him to move to the other side of the pool. Once they were settled on the opposite side, he felt her head drop to his shoulder with a wistful sigh. She was looking across the street rather than the vista of the mountains.

"It's such a great little church. It was a wonderful day."

Moving one arm around her back, and placing his other hand on the slight hard bump of her abdomen, Jack nodded. "Best day ever," he agreed. They sat there silent for a few moments, watching the snow lazily fall around them. "You're not getting too hot, are you?" They'd almost decided to skip another year once they'd learned about the baby. Dr. Lam advised caution, but left it up to Sam's discretion whether or not to use the hot pools and Sam decided she wasn't going to miss another year in Ouray.

"No, I'm fine, but I guess I have to use more common sense this year." Usually he had to practically drag her from the water, her skin flushed to an unhealthy red. "So, what did you want to tell me that you couldn't talk about in the car?"

Jack hadn't wanted to bring up a sensitive subject while driving. Or ever, actually, knowing how she was going to fight him. But really, it was time. He never liked dropping this kind of surprise on her, because as well as he knew her in the field, he was never sure how she would react these days. After all their long months apart, he was still getting to know Sam the woman.

"I'm retiring."

Sam splashed around to sit up straighter and face him. "Jack," she sighed. "How many times have we been over this?"

"You know Landry has been being groomed to take over. It's the reason you have a job at the SGC." She closed her eyes and took a breath. It was a gesture he knew well. Her I'm-trying-to-be-patient look, and it was anything but.

"I know why I was recalled to the SGC, and Landry was only part of the reason."

Jack looked down at the water unable to meet her gaze. "Well, it was the _official_ reason," he said. "You wanted to be back on Earth, I wanted you here, so your application got pushed to the top of the pile. Can I help that?" He was doing his best to look innocent, but from the expression on her face, he was failing. Shaking her head, Sam smiled.

"Well, let's not put too fine a point on it. You slid it past the head honchos and they agreed, so that's all that matters. Now, about this retirement thing. . ."

"Sam, it's time," he interrupted. "With the baby coming, one of us has to consider being available to be a caregiver. I know you've heard this a hundred times before, but it's _your_ career that's the important one now. I've been there, done that. You deserve the chance try."

"And if I want to be the one to stay with the baby?"

"Then we'll work that out. Or rather Hank will have to work that out because I'm not going to have direct oversight over the SGC any more."

"So you've already decided," she said, pulling slightly away from him. He didn't let her go.

"Sam, be reasonable. You know you'd be miserable if you didn't at least have your hand in the SGC."

She turned her gaze on him. "And what about you? You're no better than me. Maybe even worse!"

"I'll consult," he said with a shrug. "Hammond made it work. For awhile," he added. Neither of them wanted to remember it was Hammond's death that put an end to his consultations.

Sam's brow's rose in a concerned frown. "Is it going to be enough for you?" Jack smiled, leaning in to give her a reassuring kiss. He could tell she was starting to warm to the idea, and didn't want to push too hard.

"Honestly, I don't know. I think it will be, but if I find I'm getting bored I'm sure something will come my way." Sam was quiet for a long time, and he wasn't sure what to make of it. Sometimes her silences were her working through logistics, other times it was a passive sign of her disapproval.

Wrapping her arms around him, she rubbed her cheek on his chest. "I know you don't need my approval. It is your life after all. And it's not like we can't afford to have one of us stay at home." She took some time to gather her thoughts before she continued. "It's just I'm so used to you being charge. Either of SG-1, the SGC, Home World Command, it feels so final. Like the end of an era."

Jack rested his head on the top of hers, pushing the wet strands of her hair back over her shoulder. In some ways it felt that way to him as well. "It's gonna be a change, that's for sure, but it doesn't have to be a bad one. We're really going to be starting our life together, Sam. We've been waiting for this for a long time."

"Longer than a lot of people stay married," she observed.

He pulled her closer, rubbing his hand over the baby. "So, General Carter, are you up for the challenge?"

"Guess there's only one way to find out." She exhaled, smiling at him. "Congratulations on your retirement, sir."

xxxxxx

Sam entered the cafe, feeling Jack's hand on her back as he held the door. This year she was actually looking forward to their breakfast. Where in the past the meal had been an ending, today it felt like a beginning. Plus, she was actually feeling hungry. Ravenous if she thought about it. After weeks of morning sickness, having an appetite felt good.

"Same table?" she asked over her shoulder.

He squeezed her hand in response, settling across from her, as the waitress came to hand them menus.

"Coffee?"

"One regular and one decaf," Sam answered automatically.

"That was cute," he said, disengaging his hand from hers long enough to look at the menu. Confused, Sam looked up, her eyebrow quirked. "That wife thing you just did. Ordering coffee for us."

"I figure I needed 'spouse practice.' Besides, the people here think we've been married for years. You know, now that I've had some time to think about it, I am looking forward to having you around the house more."

Closing his menu, Jack nodded, and Sam wasn't sure if he was acknowledging her, or the waitress for bringing them coffee. She took a sip of the weak, brown liquid in her cup, making a face.

"The only way this stuff passes for coffee is that it's vaguely the same color. The first thing I'm doing after having this baby is drinking an entire pot of coffee."

"I could switch to decaf it would make it easier for you."

Reaching across the table, she took his hand once more, squeezing his fingers before releasing them. "That's sweet Jack, but there's no reason both of us should suffer. In fact, I'm going to make it up to myself by having a full breakfast _and_ a cinnamon roll, calories be damned!"

"Enjoy! Indulge!" he grinned, propping his head in his hand, to stare at her. "Have I mentioned how much I'm looking forward to retirement?"

Sam bent her arm, as if to check a watch. "Hmm. Let's see, it's maybe been five whole minutes since you said something about it." She smiled at him to take the sting out of her sarcasm.

Sitting up away from the table, Jack pulled the jelly caddy over and began organizing the flavors. "You've been hanging around me too much, Carter. What happened to the innocent wide-eyed Captain I fell in love with once I got to know her?"

"You're never going to let that go, are you?"

Jack pretended to think about it. "Mmmm, probably not."

Sam watched him replace the caddy and start to reach for the salt shaker. Sliding her fingers into his to still his restless digits, she smiled. "Good." They sat quietly for a few minutes each staring out the window. Sam noticed a patrolman marking tires as their waitress served their breakfast.

"Looks like the Parking Nazi is at it again," she said, nodding towards the window. Jack turned around to witness the man writing out a ticket. "I hope that's not your car," the waitress added. "They've doubled the fines this year."

Jack looked up at their server. "Nope, not ours, but I've had the pleasure before."

The waitress bobbed her head in agreement. "Haven't we all. Get you folks anything else?" she asked, topping off their coffee. They both shook their heads, reaching for the salt at the same time. Sam smiled at Jack, letting him have it first. Instead, she reached for her coffee. Raising the mug in a toast, Jack matched her posture when he noticed her action.

"Here's to a new life," she said, clinking her cup against his.

"And no more parking tickets at such outrageous fees," he smiled, eyes twinkling.

Sam took a bite of her eggs, enjoying them for the first time in eleven years. "We'll keep coming here, won't we? I mean just because we'll be living in the same house for once doesn't mean we have to stop coming in the spring, does it?"

Reaching across the table, Jack gave her hand a reassuring squeeze. "Of course we'll be back. We've got a new generation to introduce to the area." Sam smiled at the thought, reaching down to rub her slight belly. She was still getting used to the idea of being pregnant, but with each passing day she found herself more and more in love with the idea. Jack was going to be a great dad and she couldn't wait to see him and their baby together.

Picking up her fork, Sam prepared for another bite. "So, do you have any plans now that you're going to be a man of leisure?"

Jack's eyes got_ that _look in them again, and he gave her a slow grin. "Oh, yeah." He took his time swallowing and washing down the bite with some of his coffee. "Fishing," he said. "Lots and _lots_ of fishing."


	12. Chapter 12

**Disclaimer in chapter one.**

**Epilogue—2012**

Lydia slid on her glasses, looking over the reservations her assistant Miranda had printed out for her. Many of the names she recognized, some she didn't, but one line in particular caught her eye—Mr. and Mrs. Jack Carter. She smiled to herself realizing it was Jack's way of teasing her over her assumptions of twelve years ago now. Twelve years! Where had the time gone?

She'd missed seeing them last year for their anniversary because she'd been at a conference in Denver. Normally she didn't attend such events, but her granddaughter convinced her she needed to do more about marketing the inn. Lydia was quite happy with her current clientele and thought it was a waste of time, but humored the girl. It turned out to be more beneficial than she'd suspected, but she'd missed the Carter-O'Neill's who would always hold a special place in her heart. Especially since she'd been a part of their unconventional wedding.

Looking at a further notation, she saw they'd requested a crib in their room. She didn't even know Sam had been pregnant and they were bringing their baby? She was more excited than ever to see them. _ If anyone deserved happiness, it was those two,_ she mused. Lydia finished the room assignments and went in search of the fold-away crib. She didn't often have need of it, so it could be in a closet anywhere. Besides, she wanted all in readiness when the "Carter's" arrived.

xxxxxx

Lydia sat down to her lunch with a sigh. Lord, it felt good to get off her feet! What started out as a quiet morning had quickly turned chaotic. One of the housekeepers called in sick. The man who cleaned the pool, usually in the early morning hours called and said he was running late. _Well, at least he'd called_," she'd thought. Then, to top things off, when she'd finally found the crib, it was broken. Probably why it wasn't in it's usual place. Why someone hadn't let her know to have it repaired or replaced was beyond her. It was days like this she wondered why she didn't just hand the inn over to her granddaughter. Hopefully, Sam and Jack's baby could make-do until she could send someone to Montrose to get a new crib.

She was just about to take a bite of her sandwich when she heard the bell over the door. _Damn it! Why did she have to be the only one here?_ Dusting off the crumbs she'd somehow already managed to accumulate, she hurried when she heard the second bell at the desk ringing.

"I'll be right there!" she called, with more congeniality than she felt. Stepping into the lobby to see who'd rung, her attitude immediately changed. "Sam! Jack! You've made it!" Before either could greet her, Lydia hugged first Sam, and then Jack who was cradling an infant. About six months old from the look of—her? "And who is this precious little bundle?"

Jack's grin couldn't have been prouder. "Lydia, we'd like to introduce Janet Catherine O'Neill. Some times we call her Jace or J.C. for short." He turned the baby around, cupping her bottom, his other hand firmly on Janet Catherine's stomach. The baby waved her arms, smiling a toothless grin.

"Oh, she's adorable! May I hold her?" Jack's grin grew even broader, if that was possible, as he glanced over at Sam to see if she had any objections.

"Of course you can," Sam said, smiling with an equally well-pleased look.

Holding out her hands, Lydia felt her own smile growing. "Aren't you just the cutest thing! Come to Auntie Lydia!" J.C.'s hands continued to wave, as she happily gurgled.

"Hey, Half Carter! I told you no gurgling!" Sam elbowed him in the ribs, but her smile was still there. Obviously it was some joke between them she wasn't privy to. Lydia bounced the baby in her arms, cooing nonsense sounds at her. She really was a beautiful little girl, Lydia thought, brushing a bright blonde curl from her face. She'd inherited her mother's eyes, and other than perhaps the O'Neill nose, Janet Catherine was nearly all Sam.

Handing her back to her father, Lydia sighed. "She's going to be a heart-breaker, that's for sure."

"I've already got a contingency plan for when the boys come calling," he informed her.

"Jack. . . ." Sam admonished, shaking her head. "He really doesn't," she told her. "Besides, this little girl's going to fight her own battles, aren't you, Sweetie?" she added, playing with a bootied foot.

Lydia continued to beam as she watched the three of them interact. It was obvious Sam and Jack were besotted with their daughter, and were still as in love as the last time she'd seen them, at their wedding. Maybe even more so.

"Oh!" she cried, suddenly remembering the crib. "I went to find the crib, and discovered it's broken. I'm terribly sorry. As soon as Miranda gets back from lunch I'll send her to get a new one. Can J.C. sleep in her car seat until she gets back?"

Jack handed the baby off to Sam, searching through the diaper bag until he found the object he'd been rummaging for. It looked to be a teething ring, but unlike any she'd seen before. It was gunmetal grey with orange triangles spaced evenly around it, nine in all.

"May I?" Lydia asked, holding out her hand, hoping to get a better look at the unusual object. Upon closer inspection, she realized her first observation had been correct, but in addition to the triangles, there were symbols spaced around the circle that looked vaguely like Egyptian hieroglyphs, seven of them. One looked rather like an "A" with the middle bar missing and a small circle at it's apex. "How very odd," she said, looking up at Jack as she handed the ring back.

"A friend of ours made it for her," Sam said. "I think you remember Daniel? He was Jack's best man." Lydia did indeed remember him. He was such a contrast to the woman he'd come with, she couldn't help take notice of him. That, and he was quite good looking.

"Where on Earth did he get the idea for this?" she asked, "It's quite unique."

Jack handed the pliable ring to his daughter. "Daniel's an archaeologist, so it's probably from some rock or other." The comment produced another lovingly exasperated look from Sam which didn't go unnoticed by Jack, although he was trying hard to give the impression he hadn't seen it.

Lydia moved around her desk, calling up their reservation on the computer. "I see you're staying two nights this year."

"Yes," Jack said, fiddling with the pens she stored in an old coffee mug. "We decided to blow the wad and have a real, live vacation."

"I'm so glad you'll be spending more time! And I want you to know I'm available for baby-sitting duties while you're in the pools. I am sorry, but children must be at least five years old to go in the water."

"Really, it's not a problem," Sam tried to assure her. "It's too warm for one thing. She'll be just as happy to sit bundled up in her car seat watching us."

"And we might be taking you up on your baby-sitting offer," Jack added, wagging his eyebrows at his wife. By the color in her cheeks, Sam seemed to be embarrassed by Jack's statement which Lydia found quaint. After all these years that she could still be shy!

Just then Miranda came through the door, carrying a take-out soda cup and a plastic bag which was probably her lunch. "Miranda, I'm sorry to send you out again, but after your meal, I need you to get a replacement for our crib. It would seem ours is broken."

"Lydia, that really isn't necessary. If you have some extra blankets, Jace can sleep on the floor." Sam looked over to her husband. "Can't she, Jack?"

"It'll be her first camping trip," he smiled. "It's not a problem at all. Don't make an extra trip on our account. We'll be fine."

"Well, if you're sure," Miranda said, glancing over at Lydia. "I wouldn't mind other than I've just come from Montrose," she said, holding up her lunch. Lydia looked over at the O'Neill's who really did seem perfectly fine with the idea. She'd take something off the bill and everyone would be happy.

Lydia finished checking Sam and Jack in, insisting they take her discount. "You either take the reduced rate or I send Miranda back to Wal-Mart. It's your choice." Graciously, they finally accepted.

Jack took the offered key, turning to Sam speaking loudly enough for Lydia to hear. "I told ya she would have made a good General."

Lydia waved them off. "Enjoy your stay, and if you need anything, let me know." She was still shaking her head as she watched them through the windows making their way to their room. There was a good deal of shuffling the baby and bags, but eventually they entered suite seven, closing the door behind them.

Remembering her interrupted lunch, Lydia headed back to the kitchen. Looking around the lobby again, she smiled. A half hour ago she'd been ready to pack it in and hand over the inn and all its problems to her granddaughter. Now she was not so sure.

What would she do if she wasn't seeing to her guests comfort? And what about the O'Neill family? Lydia doubted she'd cross paths with them if she wasn't here, and she definitely wanted to see where life took them. Maybe all she needed was some more time off, because even though she saw them only one or two nights a year, she wanted to be here for them when they came for their getaway. Same time next year and every year.

The End


End file.
